


Where Dreams Dwell, The Heart Calls Home

by Bibabybi, TheWeaverofWorlds



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alpha Bill - Freeform, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Angst, Blowjobs, Degradation, Dissociation, Double Penetration, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, Graphic depiction of rape under coercion, M/M, Manipulation, Mating, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Minor Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Omega Stan, Physical Abuse, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, Smut, eventual stenbrough, henry bowers/ stan uris, patrick hockstetter/ stan uris, self hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:28:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 32,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25636555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bibabybi/pseuds/Bibabybi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWeaverofWorlds/pseuds/TheWeaverofWorlds
Summary: Stan never expected to see the Losers again, so when he runs into Eddie at his university's required omega course he is shocked and hurt. Everything he has worked so hard to bury comes flooding back. Most of all his jealousy. Unfortunately he is forced to hide his feelings from his new pack as Henry Bowers, his alpha, wouldn't be pleased to find out that Stan is longing for the past. In fact Stan's newly found feelings could bring about a lot more than just punishment if Henry were ever to discover them. Stan's only hope is escape, but can he turn to the pack that betrayed him so long ago? Can he face Bill?
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris
Comments: 59
Kudos: 74





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> “I believe wherever dreams dwell, the heart calls it home. So may you untangle yourself from the twist of melancholy and let your thoughts carry you back to the birthplace of your truth.”  
> –Dodinsky

Stan arrived to class early. Although he wasn’t excited to be taking an Omega 101 class it was a reason to get away from his pack, and at this point anything was better than hanging around that fucking house. Besides arriving early had some other perks. For example he was able to choose from any seat he liked. He ended up picking a seat near the front of the lecture hall since it would look good to be sitting there attentively. Henry, he refused to call him his alpha, would like that.

Suddenly a familiar scent reached Stan, and all at once the memories he had worked so hard to bury began to resurface. He tried to school his response. Hopefully the other omega couldn’t smell his panic.

“Stan?” He could hear the disbelief and hope in the speaker’s tone.

Stan looked up to find Eddie Kaspbrack standing above him. Immediately his eyes searched the juncture of Eddie’s neck and shoulder looking for where Bill would have left his bonding mark. He was surprised to find Eddie’s skin unmarked. So they hadn’t bonded yet. He wasn’t even wearing a collar to show that he was promised to an alpha. Stan tried not to read too much into that. Instead he focused on what he must look like to Eddie: wearing long sleeves even though the heat of summer had yet to dissipate, a leather collar fastened tightly around his neck, dark circles under his eyes. What must Eddie think of him? What did the others think of him? He tried to push away the thoughts of his old pack and focused on the young man in front of him.

“Hi, Eddie.”

Eddie shifted his weight uncomfortably clearly trying to get a read on the situation without blatantly scenting Stan. It would be rude to just assume that because they had been close he would be allowed to do something so intimate. And besides there was something hostile in Stan. His posture was defensive. Closed off. Eddie wondered if living with Bowers had changed him, if he had become one of them. So Eddie stood just out of reach staring at the stranger who used to be one of his closest friends.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” Eddie asked, gesturing to the seat beside Stan.

Stan shrugged before turning to look out the window.

Eddie tried not to sigh. He hadn’t been expecting to run into Stan. He wasn’t sure if he should start up a conversation or just let the awkward silence hang between them. With Stan turned away from him he was able to study the young man freely. Beyond the defensive posture there had been a haunted look in Stan’s eye. Eddie wondered if he was sleeping well. If Henry was treating him properly? The collar had been a shock. Eddie hadn’t expected to see Stan give in so easily. What was Bill going to think? Christ. Eddie was going to have to tell Bill about this. His thought began to run a mile a minute. He wondered how his pack’s leader was going to take Stan’s subservience to Henry. Oh God, Bill. What would he do in this situation? Eddie knew the answer. Bill would talk to Stan, demand answers. Only Bill wasn’t here. It was just Eddie. His breathing started to increase, soon he was going to need his inhaler. He realized that he needed to find out more, if only to bring peace of mind to his pack. He forced himself to calm down before starting with the obvious.

“So, Stan, how are things?” Eddie asked.

Stan was slow to respond. At first Eddie wasn’t sure if the other boy had heard him. Before he could ask the question again Stan turned in his seat to face Eddie.

“Why do you want to know?”

Eddie floundered a bit. He thought it was obvious, “because we’re friends.”

Stan let out a dry laugh. “Friends?”

“Yeah don’t you remember –”

“Yeah I remember. I remember a lot of things.” How you adored Bill. How he looked at you when he thought I wasn’t looking. How you all let Henry claim me. Stan began to smell the hurt souring his scent. He did his best to regain control over his emotions. After spending so much time with Henry he had gotten good at hiding how he was truly feeling. He began to disconnect from the conversation, slowly pulling the plugs until he had fully withdrawn into himself – like a small balloon floating in the wind – no longer a part of his body. He watched himself from the safety of his bubble and was sure that Eddie hadn’t picked up on a thing.

“Well then how are you?” Eddie asked.

“Fine.”

“That’s good. I’m glad you’re doing well.”

By now other students had begun to filter into the room. The inoffensive scent of the cleaning supplies began to be muddied by the other omegas. Stan noticed distantly that most of them were wearing collars. All of them forced into taking the class just so they could get a decent education before they were turned into mindless breeding machines. A class to teach them all about pleasing their alphas, how to handle their alphas’ ruts, how to carry litters to term, how to raise their pups. Stan began to feel his heart pound at the thought of carrying Henry’s pups inside him. The panic and fear that arose in him felt distant like it was happening to someone else. He focused on the balloon floating in his head. Here he was safe. Here it wasn’t happening to him, not really. It was some other version of him, his body, not the him that counted. Not the real him, the one that desired an alpha that cared for him. An alpha that would protect him, and show his pleasure through praise. Stan wanted to please that alpha so badly. He wanted that alpha to bond him and mate him. He needed to belong to an alpha that was strong enough to protect his pack and defend what was his. He wanted to carry that alpha’s litters, to be able to raise their pups together and to know that he was safe. While Henry might have control over the false-Stan, it was this ideal alpha that possessed the part of Stan that was really him. He had to believe in that otherwise he would have to accept the fact that Henry really was his alpha and that what was happening to him was real. To accept that would mean accepting death, and that was the one thing Stan wouldn’t allow.

Eddie watched as Stan zoned out in front of him. He was desperate to get the other boy’s attention. He had to find out more, but after the strange interaction which had just occurred he wasn’t sure what to say. He was aware of the other students filing in, the easy chatter filled the air. Determined to try again Eddie reached out. He placed his hand on Stan’s wrist causing the other boy to jump.

“Are you okay? You kinda spaced out on me,” Eddie said.

Stan pulled his hand away like he had been burned. He couldn’t let Henry or the others smell Eddie on him. “I’m fine.”

“Alright. You know the others miss you.”

Stan tensed in his seat.

“I bet if Richie were here he would make some dumb joke that would get you to roll your eyes, but you’d secretly love it. Or if it were Mike and Ben they would make you feel instantly comfortable, like no time had passed. You’d be conversing with them no problem. Or Beverly would know how to make easy conversation that wasn’t as awkward as I’m being right now. And Bill –”

“Don’t.” Stan gripped the desk tightly. The balloon in his head began trying to float closer to the surface of his consciousness. His stupid omega hindbrain wanted to know what Eddie was going to say about Bill. It wanted to bask in the warmth and kindness of the alpha. Instead he reminded himself that Bill had abandoned him. He had chosen Eddie. The balloon full of hope retreated, deflating slightly at his vicious remarks. He was getting sloppy.

“Stan whatever is going on –”

“Nothing is going on.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“Honestly it doesn’t matter what you think.”

Eddie snapped his mouth shut.

Stan closed his eyes and let out a breath. “I’m sorry, Eddie. I’m just here to learn to be good. That’s all I want. No trouble. Okay?”

Eddie bit his lip. He wasn’t sure why the fire had gone out of Stan, but he didn’t like this side of Stan that was begging to be good. Begging to be left alone. It worried him. He would have preferred if Stan continued to fight back, at least then he would know that there was a part of Stan that could still fight back.

Before he could say more their professor stepped into the room.

Doctor Norbert Keene was a beta who had received his doctorate in omega studies. He believed that he knew what made the submissive species tick better than they did themselves. It was his responsibility to teach them to be obedient, good, little omegas in order that they might please their alphas. He looked out into a sea of collared throats and was pleased. Only one boy, sitting in the front row, was without a collar. He scanned down his attendance list and found that he knew the boy instantly.

Before the semester had begun one Kaspbrak, Edward had emailed him about signing up for the class. While it was required for all omegas to be full-time students to be registered for an omega-centric course, Mr. Kaspbrak had emailed to ask if it was really necessary to have an alpha sign off on his course load, arguing that it was archaic and backwards. Doctor Keene had replied to say that Mr. Kaspbak’s argument was proof enough that he needed to take this course, and that yes an alpha must sign off on it. If he didn’t like, Doctor Keene had written, then he could try to apply to another university; although, the admission deadlines had long since passed. Within a week Mr. Kaspbrak had signed up for the course, registered to a William Denbrough. Doctor Keene would need to keep an eye on him to ensure that he did not go poisoning the rest of his class with his ideas of equality.

His gaze drifted to the boy besides Mr. Kaspbrak. This boy’s eyes were downcast, head bowed slightly. A perfect specimen of his breed, perhaps if Mr. Kaspbrak was wise he would follow this student’s example.

“Good afternoon, class. I am Doctor Keene and this is Omega Studies 101. In this course we will be studying how your body chemistry is complementary to that of your alpha. This will lead us to discuss scenting, mating, and pair-bonding. We will also cover heats and ruts, as well as conception of litters, and pup rearing. While this is just an overview, I expect you to all take this course seriously. With the decline of omegas it is important that you breed with compatible alphas in order to save the species. This means you must have as many healthy litters as possible. Your duty to society is the bearing of pups. It is this important task that you are destined for, anything else is selfish.”

Eddie raised his hand.

“Mr. Kaspbrak?”

“I don’t think it’s selfish to want to be more than a receptacle for cum.”

Stan turned to stare. What the hell was Eddie thinking?

“That is enough, Mr. Kaspbrak.”

“Omega’s should have more rights than that. They should be able to take the classes they want without needing an alpha’s permission.”

The room stirred uneasily.

“Shut up,” Stan whispered.

“You should listen to your friend.”

“We’re not friends.” Stan said.

Now it was Eddie’s turn to stare.

“What’s your name?” Doctor Keene asked.

Stan flushed. “Stanley Uris.”

Doctor Keene looked down at his roster before turning his thin smile on Stan. “Very good, Mr. Uris.”

The praise sounded hollow at best. Stan ducked his head eager for attention to be drawn away from him. Doctor Keene marked a star by Mr. Uris’ name, he was going to make an example of this omega. It would be good for the others to learn from him. Mr. Bowers had clearly trained him well.

“Now ignoring the crude interruption we shall begin this lecture by talking about the alpha/omega dynamic. An alpha’s biology tells them that they must protect their pack at all costs, and above that all they must protect their omega. It is your scent which first draws your alpha to you, and it is your scent that tells them how you are feeling. Scent is a powerful thing. That is why it is rude to scent someone you don’t know well. It’s invasive. That’s something you’ve been taught since you were pups. But there is more to scenting than just finding out how someone is feeling.”

Stan began taking careful notes as Doctor Keene spoke. In his peripheral he could see Eddie leaning back in his chair, head raised defiantly. Clearly he was proud of not being collared, of having spoken up in front of the whole class. He didn’t even have the decency to have a notebook open in front of him. Stan wondered what Bill even saw in him.

“Scenting can tell you if your mate will make a good bond mate. The stronger and better your alpha’s scent is to you, the more likely you are bond mates. Bond mates are powerful things. Once an alpha has bitten your bonding gland it cannot be undone, you are tied to one another. These days bond mates aren’t as encouraged as they used to be. It is more important for packs to have litters, and if it needs to be via multiple alphas than so be it. Alphas may not like it, due to their possessive nature, but it is your duty to convince your alpha that it is necessary for the survival of the species.”

Eddie raised his hand.

Doctor Keene ignored him.

Eddie coughed.

“Yes?”

“Isn’t that dangerous for the omega?”

“Isn’t what dangerous for the omega?”

“Having so many partners in such a short time span?” Eddie wasn’t advocating for monogamy, he didn’t care if omegas chose to have multiple partners. What he was worried about was the pairings that were non-consensual. He knew that there were certain risks to the omega’s mental and physical health if they were forced to carry litters with multiple alphas with little time in between. The bond that formed between the alphas and omega would be torn away with each subsequent breeding leaving the omega emotionally unmoored and distant. On top of that there had been studies that said that occasionally alphas had rejected their omegas after they had been bred by another alpha. They no longer recognized their mate, and therefore rejected them from their pack. The only cases where this had not occurred was with bond mates; however, the recovery time for the omega was still a long one. And that didn’t even begin to cover the physical health risks of carrying multiple litters to term one after another.

“It’s about the survival of the species.” Doctor Keene said turning away dismissively.

“And what about the survival of those already living? Do we not matter?” Eddie asked.

Doctor Keene looked at Eddie. “Very well, Mr. Kaspbrak. Let’s try a little experiment. Tell me about your pack.”

“What?”

“How many omegas are there?”

Eddie looked to Stan before looking forward. “Just me.”

“I see. And what about betas?”

“We have three.”

“Alphas?”

“Two.”

Doctor Keene’s eyes lit up. “Two alphas, and only a single omega to bear the litter. Are you telling me that you wouldn’t submit to both your alphas should they require it?”

Eddie blushed for the first time, he looked away.

“Well?”

“I wouldn’t do it.”

“What was that?” Doctor Keene asked.

Eddie could feel everyone’s eyes on him, but the only pair that mattered belonged to the boy beside him. He looked directly at Stan as he spoke. “I wouldn’t mate with someone I don’t love.”

Eddie hoped that Stan understood, but all that was in front of him was an omega in pain. Eddie wondered what he had said that had hurt the other omega so badly.

Doctor Keene turned away. “What about you, Mr. Uris? Tell us about your pack.”

Stan snapped to attention. Eddie caught the barest traces of fear rolling off Stan before the other boy could hide it.

“There are two alphas and two betas, sir.”

“And if your alphas required it, would you carry both their litters?”

“Yes.” Stan said not meeting Eddie’s gaze.

“As you should,” Doctor Keene said with all the kindness he possessed. He turned his attention back to the class. “This is what a good omega must do. Mr. Kaspbrak has been misinformed. There are no dangers to mating with multiple alphas.”

Eddie stared at Stan as Doctor Keene continued on with his lecture. The Stan he remembered had believed in bond mates ever since he was young. What had caused this reversal? Eddie wasn’t sure that he was equipped to find out. For some reason, Stan wasn’t willing to open up to him. He wondered vaguely what he could have done to cause the other boy’s apparent distrust. Eddie was sure the others could do a better job at getting Stan to open up. They had always been better at those sorts of things. He resolved to catch Stan before class was over and ask him over to the pack’s den.

Eddie tuned out the rest of Doctor Keene’s lecture. He had no interest in learning more about how scents could indicate oncoming heats or ruts. Instead he focused on Stan’s bent head, the neat notes in blue pen, and the inevitable invitation.

The bell rang signaling the end of class. No one moved or began packing up their things, Doctor Keene smiled. Perhaps they had been trained better than he expected.

“Please read the handout by Doctor Gray on the risks of untreated heats for next class. You are dismissed.”

The students began to pack up. Stan packed his things up swiftly, careful not to look at Eddie. Once he was done he hurried out of the classroom before Eddie had the chance to say anything. Eddie grabbed his backpack and hurried after Stan. He followed Stan through the halls until they were on the front steps of the building.

“Hey! Stan wait up!” Eddie said, running to catch up with him. He did his best to ignore the burning ache in his lungs.

Stan turned, absolute horror written across his face. “Stop following me.”

It became too much. Eddie gasped for air. He took a hit from his inhaler before speaking. “Look I just wanted to see if you wanted to come over? The others would love to see you.”

“I can’t.”

“Bill won’t even be there if that’s what you’re worried about. He’s got work until five,” Eddie said misinterpreting Stan’s tone.

“It’s not that. I have to get back and start making dinner for my pack.”

Eddie glanced at his watch. It was only 2 pm. “You have to make dinner for your entire pack?”

Stan nodded. “Belch is picking me up. You shouldn’t be talking to me when he gets here.”

“Okay, maybe some other time?”

Eddie watched Stan go down the steps. He knew that some omegas liked to prepare food for their alphas as a way to show they cared, but he hadn’t heard of an omega preparing food for their entire pack. Eddie thought that if his pack expected him to cook for all of them every day they would be shit out of luck. Lord knew Richie could eat enough alone to eat them out of house and home. Eddie’s inner omega perked up at the thought of preparing Richie’s meals. He pushed the enthusiasm away with disgust. Eddie watched as a restored 1958 Plymouth Fury pulled up to the curb. Stan got in the front seat without once looking back.

“Who the fuck were you talking to?” Belch asked once Stan was in the car.

“No one.”

Belch looked over at Stan and grunted, apparently they were done talking. Stan looked out the window and let the balloon float away.

Their apartment was cold. No matter how much Stan tried to warm it up, no matter how many times he redecorated, no matter what he did. It was always cold and gray and totally, horrifically empty. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Stan can’t help but wonder what the Losers’ apartment looked like. He was sure it was warm and homey and, immediately, he felt homesick for a place he’d never been.

He forced those emotions to the back of his head. If he started to long for the Losers - if he started to long for Bill - he would crumble. All the years he had spent building up a wall inside his head would have been for nothing. He had spent enough time locking himself in the bathroom to cry when he was first forced into this god awful pack, he can’t go through that phase again. It’s not like Bill had cried for him.

Belch didn’t say a word to him as they entered the apartment, instead going to slouch down on the couch and flip through the TV without ever settling on a channel. The noise had driven Stan crazy when he first arrived, but by now it had become a welcome background noise. Something to focus on without having to actually leave himself at the mercy of his own thoughts.

Vic came home next. He didn’t spare Stan a glance, but made sure to loudly remind him, “I don’t like when you put olives in the pasta,” as he passed. Which is a shame, because Henry would whine for days if Stan forgot the olives.

“Alright,” Stan replied, if only because Vic would tattle to one of the alphas if he didn’t.

He set about making a separate batch for Vic, this one free of olives. Bitterly, Stan couldn’t help but think to himself how easy it would be to just pick out the goddamned olives. But Vic had reminded him over, and over, and over again that the taste supposedly lingers even with the olives removed.

“It’s really just easier if you make a separate batch,” he had said.

Stan couldn’t help but disagree, though he kept this opinion very much to himself.

Patrick came home a few minutes later. Stan didn’t hear him, so much as pick up a whiff of something rotten and decaying before a pair of hands were gripping his hips, pulling him swiftly against Patrick’s chest.

“What’re you making?” Patrick asked, smirking.

“Pasta salad,” Stan said. He pried at Patrick’s fingers, but it only caused Patrick to tighten his grip. Huffing, Stan reminded him, “You have to let me go. I can’t let the food burn.”

“But I had such a hard day,” Patrick said, lips twisting into a pout. His breath was hot against Stan’s neck, just above the collar, and a few years ago Stan would have cringed away from the rancid smell. But he knew better now.

“I’m sorry,” Stan said. The words seemed to drain the rest of the fight out of him, the husk of the man he once was going limp in Patrick’s grip.

Patrick hummed. “Good Omega.”

For a single, mortifying moment, Stan found himself basking in the praise. But the feeling was quickly squashed under the reality of his situation, replaced by an icy cold feeling. It invaded his veins, freezing his blood and numbing his extremities. All he had ever wanted was to be good. But he had wanted to be good for an alpha who loved him. An alpha who would protect him. An alpha who saw him as more than just a living fuck toy.

Patrick was not that alpha.

One hand traveled up and off Stan’s hip, fingertips slipping under the hem of Stan’s shirt instead. The touch made Stan shudder, and for a moment fear came rolling off him in waves. He quickly schooled his emotions back into check, but it was enough for Patrick to know. Which always made it worse. Stan was positive Patrick fed off Stan’s fear, that anything and everything he did to him was just to see Stan’s eyes widen and heartbeat quicken.

The door slammed open a moment later. Henry’s familiar scent came wafting through the apartment, and immediately Stan lifted his head to give Henry his best help me eyes.

Unfortunately, Henry was not his saving grace. His shoulder came to rest against the kitchen doorway, his eyes watching Patrick toy with Stan with something akin to amusement.

“You go to the omega class today?” he asked. No, not asked, confirmed. Henry had always had the fear that Stan would run off or abandon the pack. Stan supposed Henry had good reason for his fears, Stan had spent a good amount of time daydreaming about disappearing in the dead of night and showing up on the Losers’ doorstep. In his imagination, they would welcome him with open arms and swear to protect him from Henry. But he had never acted on these daydreams, and soon they became too painful to even think about.

Stan nodded. “Yes.” Henry’s eyebrows shot up, disappearing into his hairline. It’s obvious what Henry wanted, and though it made Stan sick, he forced himself to swallow his pride and continue, “Yes, Alpha.”

Henry smirked, clearly pleased by Stan’s obedience. “How was it?”

“Fine,” Stan said. “Just introduction stuff.”

“Right, well, I’m expecting it to fix you up.” The way Henry said it, plain as day, as if there was something wrong with Stan, made shivers run down Stan’s spine. There was something innately cruel about Henry’s voice. Something that made Stan want to run and hide.

It was that cruelness that had made Stan cower from him in high school. But a few months alone in an apartment with Henry had taught Stan not to cower. It had fixed him right up.

“It will,” Stan promised. “I’ll be good.”

He glanced nervously towards the pasta. Henry sighed, gesturing for Patrick to release him.

Stan bolted out of Patrick’s arms, nearly tripping over his own two feet in his haste to return to the pasta. Luckily, the pasta had not burned yet. But as Stan was rushing to pour the potfull into the strainer, he passed directly by Henry. He had barely made it a step before Henry grabbed his wrist, holding him firmly in place.

“What’s that smell?”

Stan eyed him nervously. “What smell?”

Henry sniffed the air. Brought Stan’s wrist closer to his nose. Sniffed again. “It’s sort of fruity.”

“Must be someone in my class,” Stan shrugged, doing his best to keep his face blank.

For a single, horrifying moment, Stan was sure he had been found out. Henry knew about Eddie, Henry knew he had gone against his wishes and spoken to them. Henry knew-

Henry dropped his wrist. “Must be.” He glanced at the pot still gripped between Stan’s hands. “Hurry up, I’m starving.”

-

The Losers’ apartment was filled with a warm glow. Upon moving in, they had all taken the time to decorate accordingly. Pictures of the six of them adorned the walls, various decor scattered throughout the rooms. Richie had even managed to find a leg lamp similar to the one in A Christmas Story, which he proudly displayed in front of the window in their living room. Their apartment, even if it was perhaps a tad too small for all six of them, had quickly become their happy place.

Currently, Mike and Ben were laying across each other on the couch; Bev, on the floor next to the couch, leaned happily against it as she played a rather aggressive game of footsie with Richie, who was sitting on the floor against the cushy armchair in the corner. Curled up on said chair was Eddie, watching his pack with a fond smile on his face. They had all had their first days today and, much to Eddie’s dismay, none of the others had quite an unfortunate encounter as he had had with Doctor Keene.

Ben’s architecture class had left him with the biggest grin Eddie had ever seen aside from every single time he looked at Beverly. Mike’s history course had caused him to immediately set out to find the campus library, checking out enough books to last him a month. Bev’s fashion and design professor had told her she was the most talented student she had seen in nearly a decade. Richie’s theatre professor had applauded him for his natural outspokenness and go-getter attitude. And Bill...Bill hadn’t been seen since that morning.

On one hand, Bill’s absence was a blessing. If Bill wasn’t around, Eddie wouldn’t have to worry about his reaction to Stan being in Omega 101. On the other hand, it would be nice to have a welcoming pair of arms to dive into, ones that he knew he could let his guard down around. And while he would love for Richie to be the one he turned to, the very thought of being vulnerable around the alpha was terrifying.

He had always felt something more for Richie. Something that made his heart beat a little faster  
and palms a little sweaty. And if he allowed himself to crawl into his arms, how long would it be before he came running to him for every little problem. And from there, how long until Richie started to see him, much like Doctor Keene did, as a cum bucket useful for nothing but the next litter of pups.

No, it was too risky. No matter how many times Richie made him laugh until his sides hurt. No matter how many times he made him smile so wide he was sure his face would crack in half. No matter how many times he seemed to prove, over and over again, that he saw Eddie as his equal. Eddie couldn’t risk losing all that.

Bill was his friend. Bill wouldn’t expect anything from him. Bill wouldn’t judge him for being weak.

But, back to more important problems. Stan. Stan had been in Omega 101. Stan was here. Stan was here and he was miserable.

Of course Eddie wanted to help him. He wanted to help him more than anything. But there were factors that had to be considered, factors that needed to be thought out before he dumped it on his friends.

Even if Bill wasn’t around, even if Eddie didn’t have to worry about his reaction. He still had to worry about Richie’s reaction. Richie who had lost his best friend. Richie who had only recently come to terms with it. Richie, who was currently animatedly describing his first day of classes.

“And we had to buy a whole book about this Meisner guy, he apparently, like, invented theatre or something-”

“No way he invented theatre,” Mike said, wiggling his toes in Ben’s face. The other boy screwed up his face in disgust, trying to bat away Mike’s feet. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Okay, he didn’t invent it,” Richie said. “But he did invent this whole technique. It basically reinvented everything about acting-”

“You’re not even gonna be an actor, Chee,” Eddie said, not bothering to hide his laughter.

Richie turned to face him, a wide and easy grin spread across his face. “Hey, you don’t know that. I could be the next Ryan Gosling.”

Eddie only laughed harder. “No way!”

“Yes way! Just you watch, I’m gonna bring home my first monologue and it’ll be so sexy you’ll slick your pants right here in the living room.”

“Okay, first of all, that’s disgusting,” Eddie said, the wrinkle of his nose making Richie dissolve into giggles. “Second of all, that’s not how acting works.”

“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t know, would you?” Richie grinned. “You’re not taking theatre.”

“Yeah, instead I’m taking fucking Omega 101 with Doctor Keene.” Eddie spat out the professor’s name like it was poison, his face screwed up as if it had left a bad taste in his mouth.

All sense of humor immediately dissolved from Richie’s face. It had always been a mystery to Eddie how he did that, going from cracking jokes at Eddie’s expense to looking like he would burn down the world for him. “Class didn’t go so well, huh?”

Eddie shook his head. “The professor’s an asshole. One of those people who thinks omegas are nothing but breeding machines.”

“That’s such bullshit,” Bev piped up. “You’re not just some fucking machine.”

“Yeah, well, apparently that isn’t what a majority of the population thinks,” Eddie said, doing his best not to sound bitter. Apparently he didn’t do a very good job, because a moment later Richie laid his head on Eddie’s thighs, his hand wrapping around Eddie’s calf and his thumb rubbing soothing circles along the skin.

“You only have to be there for one semester,” he said. The soft tone of his voice sent a jolt through Eddie, spiking through his heart and pooling in his stomach. It took everything in him to keep from purring. “After that you can happily tell this Doctor Keene to go fuck himself, and you’ll be a free man.”

Eddie chuckled quietly, admittedly soothed by Richie’s...everything. “I wish it was that easy.”

“Sorry, Eddie,” Mike said, a rather sad smile gracing his lips. “You know, just because they say all that, it doesn’t mean it’s true.

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie mumbled. “But it’s awful to hear. And most of the omegas in that class are going to believe it! Including-”

The words were swept from his mouth by the sound of a door swinging open. The entire pack seemed to perk up at the sound, Bill’s scent wafting in from the doorway. A moment later he grinned down at them, looking exhausted but otherwise happy to be in their presence.

“Long day?” Ben asked.

Bill nodded. “My English professor’s a dick. And I had the worst customer come in to work.”

“My professor’s a dick too!” Eddie cried out, the words stumbling out of his mouth before he could think of a way to break the news to Bill.

Bill just groaned, collapsing on the chair next to Eddie. “Tell me about your dick professor.”

Richie snorted loudly. “Dick professor-”

“Shut up!”

Richie yelped as Eddie drove his foot playfully between Richie’s ribs. “Hey, Bill said it, not me.”

“That is not what he meant. Is it, Bill?”

But Bill was no longer focused on anything Richie or Eddie had said. Instead his eyes were staring down at Eddie’s wrist, eyebrows pinched and nose wrinkled, like he was trying to recall some far away memory from the deep, dark depths of his brain.

The scent was faint, nearly impossible to catch a whiff of in the crowded room. But it was familiar; like fresh basil in a backyard garden, ripe for the picking. Honeysuckle flowers that used to thread through the school playground, sweet and fragrant. Fesh rain, first thing in the morning.

There was something underneath it too. Something acetic. It was fear, which set off all of Bill’s alpha instincts. He needed to find this unknown omega, to soothe them. His alpha hindbrain whined, itching to take them away, to tear them from whatever - or whoever - was hurting them. And because Bill had always been a romantic at heart, an image of wrapping this strange omega in his pack’s fluffiest blanket, covering them in his own scent, suddenly invaded his brain. He would set them down on the couch, give them a cup of hot tea, wrap his arms around them, and play with their hair until they fell asleep. He could picture nosing the omega’s scent gland, causing a release of happy omega endorphins that would calm them both down. The mere thought of pleasing the omega was more than enough to cause a rumble of pleasure deep in Bill’s chest. The more he thought about it the clearer the picture became. The mystery omega in his fantasies wasn’t so strange after all. He had looked exactly like,

“Ss-Stuh-Stan?” he said suddenly. His eyes darted up to lock with Eddie’s, looking as shocked as Eddie felt at the return of his stutter. “You ss-saw Stan?”

Immediately the warm feeling that had been surrounding them seemed to be sucked out of the room, replaced with a thick, suffocating air that crushed Eddie’s lungs and squeezed his air pipe. He opened his mouth to answer, let out a loud gasp instead, and went scrambling for his inhaler.

No one spoke a word as he took a puff. Two. Three.

Finally, he forced himself to look Bill dead in the eye. He nodded.

“What?” The force of Richie’s voice made Eddie flinch, jumping back until his back was flat against the chair. “You saw Stan? And you didn’t tell us?”

“I was going to tell you,” Eddie said. “I just didn’t know how.”

“Is he oh-okay?” Bill asked.

“Oh, please,” Richie sneered. It was so different from the Richie Eddie’s used to, it damn nearly sent Eddie scrambling for his aspirator again. “As if you care.”

Bill’s eyes turned steely, turning to face Richie with two tiny fires in their place. “What does that mean?”

“We all know why Henry claimed him.” The venom in Richie’s voice was like a punch to the gut. Eddie could nearly see it, falling from his lips with every word. “Why he chose him over Eddie, and why he was able to get away with it.”

Bill didn’t answer. His eyes were locked with Richie’s, an icy glare seeming to freeze over his expression. Eddie was suddenly reminded of when their pack first formed, their seventh member freshly lost and the two alphas constantly at each other’s throats. He couldn’t let this come between his friends again.

“We can help him,” Eddie said hopefully. “Things can be different this time. We can make them better.”

Still, there was no answer from either of the alphas. After perhaps the longest few seconds of Eddie’s life, Bill finally slipped off the chair and stood in front of the pack, hands awkwardly clenched by his side and glare locked on the far wall.

“I’m going to start on dinner,” Bill mumbled.

Richie’s shoulders slumped as Bill exited the room, and he only returned his gaze to Eddie once Bill was completely gone from his vision. “What happened?”

“Is he okay?” Mike repeated the question from earlier, concern written all over his face.

Slowly, Eddie shook his head.


	2. Part Two

Despite Richie’s accusation, Bill did care. Maybe he cared too much. He cared enough to spend the better part of an hour shuffling around his work schedule, taking the most inconvenient shifts just so he could be here, standing under the blazing sun as he waited for Eddie’s stupid fucking Omega 101 class to let out. Doctor Keene had already gone five minutes over, and Bill  _ knew _ Eddie had a class in fifteen minutes.

Eddie was the type of person to lay out his schedule perfectly, the type to make sure he had exactly enough time to get from one class to the next without having to worry. Bill was sure if this class went over any longer he would be able to smell Eddie’s stress from here.

Not that Eddie was the only one dealing with stress at the moment. Bill was positively miserable. Not only was it hot as hell, but Stan was in there. All Bill would have to do is open the door and he would be face to face with his old friend again. Not that  _ friend _ ever seemed to be the right word to describe whatever had been going on between Stan and himself. But that was over now, he supposed. The choice had been made for them. They weren’t even supposed to be friends, much less anything more.

It was all too strange for Bill. Seeing Stan wasn’t supposed to make him miserable. And yet here he was, with sweaty palms and a stomach twisted up with nerves. In Bill’s opinion, sweaty palms were just about the worst thing that could happen to a person. They could only add on to the misery, making an already terrible situation even more terrible. And Bill sure would like it if he would be able to keep the misery to a minimum.

Bill hadn’t gotten a chance to ask Eddie anything more about Stan since the topic was first brought up. Or maybe he had just been too frightened to take the risk. Either way, he couldn’t stop his mind from running wild with possibilities. He had imagined what it would be like to see Stan again ever since he had lost him. Every day different variations of the event had plagued his mind, but now that he was here - now that it was happening - he felt ill prepared. Almost scared. Which was ridiculous, because Stan was his friend. Or, at least, he was supposed to be his friend. Sometimes people who were supposed to be your friends end up becoming someone else entirely. Though Bill hated to think about a world where Stan didn’t think of him as a friend, or at the very least as someone he could look back on fondly.

The smell caught Bill’s attention as soon as the door opened. It was quickly followed by a sea of collared omegas, each one as timid and docile as the next. Bill couldn’t help but feel more than a little sorry for each of them. How had turning omegas into submissive breeding machines taken priority over forming a bond - taken priority over love - for so many alphas?

Eddie’s scent was stronger than the others, and Bill’s eyes were drawn to him as soon as he exited the classroom. The sight of each other brought a smile to both of their faces and it wasn’t long before Bill had an armful of Eddie. The hug only lasted a second but it was enough to make more than one omega stop and stare, curious to see the alpha that had been dealt the misfortune of taming Eddie Kaspbrak.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “They just don’t understand how an omega and an alpha can be friends. They probably all think I want your dick.”

“You don’t want my dick?” Bill said in mock offense. “I’m hurt, Edward.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I forgot that all my dumb omega brain can think about is your fat alpha cock,” Eddie deadpanned. “Oh, please, William, please strip me of my entire future and all my freedoms just so I can have your dick inside me.” He scoffed. “It’s completely ridiculous -  _ Why are you laughing? _ ”

Bill let out the burst of laughter he had been trying to stifle. The sound rang out through the hallway, making the students around them turn their heads. The omegas that had been watching already shared curious looks with each other. Eddie Kaspbrak was a strange specimen, one they were desperate to learn more about.

“Why did you call it a fat alpha cock?” Bill snorted.

“I was making a joke!” Eddie insisted, eyes narrowing at Bill.

Bill just laughed harder. “Never say anything like that again-”

“No, now I’m gonna do it more to piss you off.” But Eddie’s threat was derailed by the laughter building in his chest, bubbling up his throat and past his lips. The burst of laughter didn’t last long, but in its place was a soft smile dancing along Eddie’s lips. “You’re here to see Stan, aren’t you?”

Bill didn’t bother denying it. “He didn’t leave already, did he?”

“I don’t think so,” Eddie said. “He might be hiding from you.” Bill arched an eyebrow. “We could smell you inside the classroom, I think Stan recognized your scent.”

Bill’s eyes lit up. “That’s a good sign, right? It has to be.”

“Why would him hiding from you be a good thing?”

“No, no, not that part,” Bill said. “I meant - Him recognizing my scent. That means he still thinks about us, right? About me?”

“Bill, we were friends for years,” Eddie countered, trying to keep his voice gentle. “It might mean nothing.”

In fact, neither of them were right. It was not a good sign, someone hiding from someone else was rarely ever a good sign. But it didn’t mean nothing either. It meant  _ something _ , but what that  _ something _ was, neither Bill nor Eddie would have been able to guess, because Stan wasn’t entirely sure what that  _ something _ was either.

He was hiding in the classroom, stalling time by asking Doctor Keene questions he already knew the answers to. It wasn’t that he didn’t  _ want _ to see Bill, more that he  _ couldn’t _ see Bill. He wanted more than anything to be able to fall back into the routine they had in high school. To be able to joke around with him, to talk to him, to touch him. God, even just being near him would be a relief.

But it was entirely out of the question.

Stan had spent years building up the walls inside his head. Those walls protected him, they were the only things that kept him sane. And as of right now, they were completely bulletproof. Nothing would be able to hurt him as long as they were up.

Except for Bill. Bill would be able to make them crumble, Stan was sure of it. He had always been able to read Stan like an open book. Even when the others bought the smiles Stan faked, Bill had been able to see the light dimming behind Stan’s eyes. He had been the one to convince Stan to admit what was wrong, and he had been the one to help nurse him back to health.

But he couldn’t let it happen. He couldn’t let Bill get under his skin, couldn’t let him crawl inside his heart and nestle there like it was where he belonged. Not again.

Not that it mattered, Bill was only here to pick up Eddie.

_ Then why is he still here? _ A tiny voice in the back of his head asked. A surge of hope soared inside him, and he hurried to squash it back down. Hope did nothing for him. Hope wouldn’t save him. Hope only made the crushing disappointment that much more crushing and disappointing.

But he was running out of questions to ask Doctor Keene, and the professor was starting to look like he was ready to do just about anything if it meant he could finally,  _ finally _ escape this conversation.

“That’s all,” Stan murmured, half terrified that if he kept Doctor Keene any longer he would send Henry a quote unquote,  _ concerned _ email. “I - um - Thank you.”

Doctor Keene plastered a smile onto his face. “Have a good day Mister Uris.”

Stan forced himself to smile, swallowing down the panic building in his chest. Bill was still outside. “You too.”

Before leaving, Stan pulled aside the curtains swaying gently in front of the classroom windows. Doctor Keene always kept them drawn. He insisted that omegas were easily distracted, their brains weren’t meant to take in so much information, and they would better retain their classwork if the blinds were drawn. Usually Stan hated it. The constant pressure of fluorescent light made his eyes strain, and the plain, gray walls were so bland that sometimes he considered driving his pencil through his cornea just so he wouldn’t have to look at them. But today he couldn’t be more grateful for them.

He could see Bill and Eddie in the distance, laughing silently. The sight made his heart ache. He could still remember a time when he had been a part of that, when it would have been nothing to open the door and join them. But that time was long passed.

There were a few other students lingering around outside as well. Enough that if he kept quiet, he might be able to slip by unnoticed.

He had hoped that the other omegas in the hallway would help mask his scent. But he had barely gotten the door open before he had caught Bill’s attention. The alpha’s head snapped up and immediately Stan knew he had been caught. Bill’s nose was wiggling the littlest bit, trying to pick up more of Stan’s scent in the crowded hallway. Stan could pretend it was something else all he wanted, pretend Bill had coincidentally picked up some other familiar scent, but at the bottom of his heart he knew it was him Bill was looking for.

“Ss-Stan!”

But he supposed the confirmation was nice.

“Stan, wait up!”   
  


Stan had no intentions of waiting up. He had to get home and start dinner, and he didn’t need old friends distracting him for the rest of the evening just because they had some guilt they couldn’t get over. Well, Stan had gotten over it. And, quite frankly, they should have as well.

“Hey!”

Stan walked faster.At some point he would lose them. At some point they would give up.

“Stan!”

At some point-

Fingertips brushed past Stan’s wrist. He jerked backwards, spinning around fast enough to nearly send him toppling to the floor. He cradled his wrist against his chest as if he had been burnt. In some ways, it almost felt like he had been. He could still feel the phantom touch of Bill’s fingers against his wrist. It had almost felt nice, a spark of warmth in his usually cold life. But it was overpowered by the crushing fear that overtook his body. Henry would  _ know _ . He always knew. No matter how big or how small, if Stan fucked up, Henry knew.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Bill looked stung by the words. Stung enough that he took a step backwards, his hands slowly coming up in a mock surrender.

Stan was sure he could smell the fear rolling off of him in waves, but no matter what he tried he couldn't seem to get his emotions in check. Not this time.

“You can’t just grab me,” he spat out, not bothering to allow Bill time to gather his thoughts. “That’s - That’s so fucking-” He bit his tongue. He had to be good. That was the whole reason he was here. To be good. To learn how to please his alpha. To make himself forget his own selfish wants. Yelling at an alpha was surely  _ not _ good behavior. With lowered eyes he continued, quieter, “Sorry. Please don’t grab me.”

“I ww-wuh-won’t,” Bill said quickly, hands still held up, awkward and limp, by his head. With some amusement, Stan couldn’t help but think it almost looked like he was being held hostage. “I’m sss-sorry about before, I just - I’m sorry.”

Stan shuffled his feet awkwardly. “It’s okay.”

Stan turned without waiting for a reply, stalking towards the doors. They were so close. He could almost feel the handle in his palm. The sunlight on his face. The wind in his hair.

“Wait,” Bill said again. And, against his better judgement, Stan froze. “Can we - Can we tt-tuh-talk?”

Stan turned again. Bill had finally dropped his hands, and he looked like he was fighting the urge not to close the distance between them. Good. Let Bill be the one to miss him for once.

“No,” he said firmly. Bill’s shoulders deflated, and immediately Stan wanted to change his answer. Wanted to hear Bill out. Wanted to finally open himself up to the possibility of change. But he wasn’t supposed to get what he wanted, was he? “Henry doesn’t want me talking to other alphas.”

Bill’s expression darkened. “Since when do you care what Henry wants?”

“Since you-” Stan snapped his mouth shut. He had to be good. He had to submit.

Bill took a step forward. Stan took a step back.

“Since I what?” he asked. His tone wasn’t threatening. It was exactly as Stan remembered, soft and sweet as honey. The first taste was enough to leave you craving more, but too much and you would end up drowning in it. And Stan had. He had gotten too comfortable and fallen off the deep end, letting the candylike sweetness trick him into devouring it until it had filled up his lungs. Until it had settled into every little crevice, filled every crack, and Stan couldn’t breathe without remembering how it had tasted.

Now all that was left was the bitter aftertaste.

“You know what,” Stan said. Then, before Bill could reply, “I have to go. Belch will be mad if I’m late. Don’t bother following me, and don’t come back here again.”

Stan knew the demands wouldn’t stick. He wasn’t surprised when he saw Bill waiting after class the next day. Or the next. Or the next. Or any of the days after that. What did surprise him was how Bill didn’t try to approach him. Instead he waved from a distance, offering Stan a smile that made him feel like, even after all these years, he was still a part of their little family.

As much as Stan hated to admit it, the thought warmed his heart.

He never returned the gestures, even looking Bill’s direction was too much of a risk, but he appreciated them nonetheless.

Despite all these precautions, it still seemed he wasn’t being careful enough. It was getting harder and harder to avoid Eddie. The class had fallen into their natural pattern of claiming the same seats everyday, so no matter how hard Stan tried, he couldn’t avoid sitting next to Eddie. And sitting next to Eddie only led to not-so-gentle prying from the other boy as he tried, almost desperately, to get Stan to open up. But the walls Stan had built were tough. He wouldn’t let Eddie tear them down with just a few simple words.

But it didn’t matter. He had bigger things to worry about.

“You’re talking to Denbrough again, aren’t you?”

Henry’s voice made Stan freeze, hand halfway to the stove. “What - What do you mean?”

“Vic said he saw him,” Henry said, voice flat. “Walking towards your class.”

“He was probably picking up Eddie,” Stan said quickly. “He’s in that class too-” Stan swallowed down anything else he was going to say, but it was too late. He could see the cogs turning in Henry’s head, could see the lightbulb turn on, could see the moment he finally understood everything.

“That’s who I’ve been smelling on you!” Henry roared. Stan flinched but otherwise held his ground, squaring his shoulders as he stared up at the alpha. “What has he been telling you?”

“Nothing,” Stan lied. “We barely talk.”

“ _ Bullshit! _ ”

“It’s not bullshit!” Stan shouted. “I’m doing everything you want! I went to the stupid class, I wore the fucking collar, I made your god awful dinner every single night! I couldn’t control which class Eddie got into! It’s not fucking bullshit!”

For a moment Henry looked startled. So startled that Stan could imagine a universe where he gathered his remaining courage and walked right out the front door. Maybe he could go to the Losers’ house after all. Even if Bill didn’t want him, he was sure Eddie would be able to convince the others to find room for him. He could still be part of the group again. He could be safe-

Pain blared through his arm. It was red and hot and, distantly, he realized it  _ burned _ . But in the moment that realization used too much cognitive function, and all he could think was about how much it  _ hurt _ . Like Henry had set his skin ablaze with a freshly lit match.

He didn’t know how long he stayed there, with his arm against the stove and Henry’s fingers in his hair, but it felt like he was trapped there for hours. Henry’s hold was tight around his wrist, tight enough that there would be bruises in the morning. But bruises were the least of Stan’s problems at the moment.

He was starting to  _ smell _ the flesh burning from his arm. It was not unlike the sausages Henry sometimes forced him to make. The pre-packaged ones that could be cooked up on a frying pan, the ones Patrick liked with eggs on the side. And suddenly his screaming - had he been screaming the whole time? - was cut short by a series of gags, loud and retching and, for a moment, Stan worried he would vomit all over the sparkling clean floors he had spent all weekend mopping.

Henry must have thought the same thing because he lept backwards, his mouth hanging open in a sort of silent shout.

Stan yanked his arm back from the stove as fast as he could, cradling it carefully against his chest. He sniffled quietly as he watched Henry. He didn’t remember when the tears started, and he had no desire to relive anything that just happened in order to find out. All that mattered now was getting the tears to stop. Letting Henry hurt him was one thing. Letting Henry know just how much the pain broke him was something else entirely.

“What have you been telling him?” The fury in Henry’s voice ripped Stan out of his thoughts. His lips were pulled back in a snarl, and his glare was enough to make Stan want to beg and cower until Henry forgave him for all his past mistakes. But he held his ground.

“Nothing,” Stan insisted. “I barely talk to him.”

He had barely gotten the words out before Henry was closing in on him again, throwing him up against the kitchen counter.

“You’re a liar,” Henry sneered. His breath was hot and rancid against Stan’s face, making him gag all over again. But this time Henry didn’t back away. “I know you are, I know you’re lying to me!”

“I’m not! I’m not lying to you!”

“You’re fucking pathetic. All I wanted was to help you become a proper omega, and you couldn’t even do that. You fucked it all up!” Henry was shouting now, spittle flying from his lips and spraying Stan across the face.

Stan tried to retort, tried to protect himself, but the simple motion of opening his mouth was enough to anger Henry all over again. All he could get out was a spluttering jumble of letters before Henry’s knuckles were imprinted across his face. The only thing that managed to escape Stan’s lips was a soft whimper. That, and the thick droplets of blood that trailed from the corners of his mouth all the way down to the bottom of his chin.

“I want you to drop out,” Henry said. “Mkay?”

“It’s past the dropout date,” Stan said softly, the words coming out muffled and awkward through the steadily increasing stream of blood. “I can’t - I’ll get a failing grade.”

“I don’t want you in that class anymore!” Henry shouted. The mix of their close proximity and the sudden raise in Henry’s voice made Stan jump. His back jammed uncomfortably against the counter and, with some distant surprise, Stan realized he was trying to escape. Trying to find somewhere safe to hide. Trying to find a way to protect himself. But it was no use, Henry had him trapped.

“I can’t!”

“You will!” Henry’s hand was now around Stan’s throat, squeezing just tight enough that wasting breath on speaking would be a, frankly, dumbass move on Stan’s part. “You’ll take the class next semester. Understand?” Stan shook his head. Henry’s grip tightened. “ _ Understand? _ ”

“I can’t,” Stan repeated, the words coming out choked and forced. The simple phrase was enough to send him spiraling into a coughing fit, which only got worse as Henry continued to tighten his grip. Stan clawed at Henry’s hand, but it was no use. He seemed to be immune to the way Stan’s nails dragged over the skin. No matter how hard Stan dug his nails into the soft flesh, Henry didn’t lighten up. He didn’t even flinch. It was terrifying, but not anything worse than what Stan had endured in the past. So he forced himself to continue, “I would have to drop out for the semester. Our pack would be the only one with an omega that couldn’t pass a single semester. Everyone would think you had failed as my alpha.”

Henry growled, a deep rumbling sound in the back of his throat. It made Stan shiver, but Henry didn’t seem to notice. He was too caught up in weighing the options: the likelihood Stan would run off with Eddie one day vs. having the entire town question his leadership.

“Fine,” Henry said. “But you are not to talk to Kaspbrak anymore.” His voice was firm and commanding, the kind that made Stan’s head go cloudy. Stan found himself nodding. He wasn’t to talk to Eddie anymore. Why would he want to? “That’s not your pack. You have no business talking to them.”

Stan was already unsteady on his feet, and he should have been prepared for the fall once Henry released him. But the pain in his knees came as a shock, reverberating all the way up his legs and into his chest. It seemed to make his entire body ache. All he wanted to do was slump down to the floor, curl up in a ball and sleep until all of this had long passed.

But none of that would be possible. Henry’s hand was in his hair not a moment too late, fingers twisting around the strands and yanking Stan’s head up. It made his eyes sting, and halfheartedly he told himself that’s why there were tears in his eyes.

He wasn’t crying because Henry had stripped him of his free will. Why would he need something as silly as the ability to make decisions for himself anyway?

“Poor omega,” Henry cooed. His free hand went to cup Stan’s face, and despite how much the touch disgusted Stan, he found himself leaning into it. “You know why I needed to punish you, don’t you?” Stan nodded, slowly as to not dislodge Henry’s hand. “Good boy.” Henry thumbed the blood - still so fresh each droplet was hot against Stan’s skin - back into Stan’s mouth. As if on auto-pilot, Stan swallowed it all back down. Henry’s thumb lingered over Stan’s lower lip, brushing against the plump flesh and, with little fight on Stan’s part, eventually pushing inside. “You look so pretty down there. Did you know you could be pretty sometimes?”

Stan shook his head. Despite himself, he preened at the praise, and he could feel his face starting to flush. Aside from the pain and humiliation, it felt good to be called pretty. It felt good to be touched tenderly, like he was something that could shatter from one simple touch.

Henry hummed. “Well, you are. Sometimes. Now why don’t you thank me for your punishment?”

Stan would like to say he struggled. That he fought back. That Henry had to force his cock down Stan’s throat.

But Stan opened his mouth willingly.

-

The only bruise Stan bothered to cover up the next morning was the one on his face. The rest would be hidden by his clothes and collar. Still, he couldn’t help but hope someone would notice. That someone would care enough to intervene, and that maybe this someone could find a loophole in the system. Something to get him away from Henry. He wouldn’t even care what his imaginary new pack would be like, just as long as they weren’t Henry and his goons.

But that would be too good to be true. No one spared him more than a glance in Omega 101. Aside from the occasional whisper from the omegas around him, it was like nothing had happened at all. He was sure they were hitting the nail right on the head. Due to Stan’s slouched posture and empty eyes, of course their first guess would be Stan got in a fight with his alpha and lost. Though he’s sure they had no idea what the extent of the fight was.

Stan suspected Doctor Keene saw. Suspected he could recognize the powdery makeup over the still tender bruise. But the closest Stan got to sympathy from the man was a half-interested glance over his face before he returned to the stack of papers gripped between his hands. That and the ghost of a smirk that crossed his lips.

The only one who seemed to care was-

“Jesus, what the fuck happened to you?”

-Eddie.

“Mister Kaspbrak!” Doctor Keene snapped. “Sit down!”

Eddie opened his mouth to retort, but Stan beat him to it. “Sit down, Eddie.” When Eddie still looked unsure he added, “Please. I’ll tell you after class.”

The shock was evident on Eddie’s face, and for a moment he didn’t move. It made every muscle in Stan’s body tense up. Maybe he had misread the situation. Maybe Eddie didn’t want to know at all.

Then, finally, Eddie nodded. “I’m holding you to that.”

Stan had been sure that would give him enough time to prepare. With an hour and a half buffer, he was sure he would be able to gather his wits and come up with a half coherent explanation. Because what the hell was he supposed to tell Eddie? _ “Hey, Eds, I know we haven’t connected in forever but my alpha beat the shit out of me for talking to you and then I gave him a blowjob to thank him.” _ He doubted that would go over well.

Still, the end of class came and Stan had nothing. But he couldn’t back out, not while Eddie was looking at him like that. For the first time in a long time, Stan felt - no, he knew - someone cared about him.

So he silently followed Eddie out of the classroom, being sure to keep his distance as Eddie led him down the hall and out of the building. He didn’t need to give Henry any more reasons to punish him again.

For a moment Stan feared Eddie would make him spill all his secrets right then and there, in the middle of campus. There were so many people around. And it’s not like an abused omega was unheard of, but Stan knew Henry would still be less than happy if word got around.

Luckily, Eddie did not expect Stan to tell him anything at the moment. He kept walking, glancing behind him every few seconds like he feared Stan would run off. After how he had treated him, Stan supposed he couldn’t blame him.

Eventually Eddie stopped. They were behind the cafeteria building, hidden behind the dumpsters of half eaten food. It smelled atrocious, but Stan didn’t dare ask for them to move somewhere else. He didn’t have a lot of time.

“Okay, spill it,” Eddie said. “What the fuck did he do to your face?”

Stan sighed, slumping back against the wall. “He was just mad.”

“Just mad,” Eddie parroted blankly. “That doesn’t mean he gets to hit you. Bill gets mad sometimes, he’s never hit me.”

The mention of Bill speared Stan through the heart, but he forced himself to keep going. That’s not why he was here.

“It’s different,” Stan mumbled.

“Well it shouldn’t be!” Eddie said, his words coming out in a huff. Even after all these years, it was still so familiar. It almost made Stan crack a smile. Almost. “It’s - It’s fucked up.”

Stan shrugged. “Not all of us win the lottery, Eds.”

Eddie’s face fell. “You know Bill would let you back in the pack if you asked.”

“Henry would never let me go. His pack needs an omega.”

Eddie didn’t say anything, but it wasn’t hard to figure out what he was thinking.  _ Why does it have to be you? _

“Well, think about it,” he whispered.

Stan nodded. Then, just because he needed a way to escape Eddie’s offer, “Henry wanted me to drop out of class.”

“ _ What? _ No, no, you can’t drop out! That’s the only time I see you!”

“Yeah, that’s why he wanted me to drop out. Don’t worry, I think I convinced him to let me stay.”

Eddie must have been expecting this answer, because he didn’t look surprised in the slightest. Still, his shoulders slumped like a child during the holidays who had just found out they weren’t getting any presents this year. “I just wanted to help.”

The defeat in his voice made Stan’s heart ache. How had he been pushing his friend away this whole time? “I know. And I appreciate it, I really do. But someone’s gotta pull the short straw in life.” Eddie didn't answer this time. He just stared down at his feet, nose wrinkled and lips pinched. Stan didn’t have to be a genius to know he was holding back tears. But he didn’t say anything, Eddie had never been fond of sympathy. “I - um - I should go. Belch is going to wonder where I am.”

“Alright.” Sure enough, Eddie’s voice was wobbly and he sniffed loudly before picking his head back up again. His eyes were shiny, but other than that all evidence of his emotional state had been swept under the rug.“Be careful.”

Stan left without another word, wondering if this little talk had left him for better or for worse.

-

Despite Henry’s persistence, Stan did not drop out. This was the one thing he had been allowed to do, and by God was he going to do it.

Eddie seemed pleased by this. His grin nearly split his face when he saw Stan sitting in his regular seat, and Stan was sure that if neither of them were so worried about Henry catching Eddie’s scent on him, he would have hugged him. Instead he just sat in his regular seat beside Stan, looking happy for the first time since he had entered this damned class.

“I’m glad you stayed,” Eddie said, keeping one eye on Doctor Keene as he did. The professor was still gathering his papers, they had a few minutes to exchange pleasantries.

“Me too,” Stan said. He kept his voice quiet. Even if class hadn’t started yet, Doctor Keene did not like meaningless chit-chat in his classroom.

Eddie’s eyes lingered on the bruises littering Stan’s skin. “Are you feeling better?”

Stan shrugged. “A little.”

Eddie nodded. “I told Bill to lay off for a little bit. To stop coming to pick me up and stuff. I thought maybe…” He trailed off lamely. What had he been thinking? That it would somehow convince Stan to trust him? That it would even the playing field? Make Stan less nervous?

Despite Eddie’s worries, Stan smiled softly. “Thank you.”

“But he - um - he wanted me to give you this.” Eddie’s hand slipped inside his backpack, his face scrunching up as he tried to focus on finding this mystery present. Stan found his heart skipping a beat at the prospect. There were a million possibilities, each one more self-indulgent and romantic than the last. But when Eddie pulled his hand back out, it was only a small, folded slip of paper. Stan still felt hot all over as he took it.

“Thanks,” he said, feeling breathless.

Eddie nodded. “I don’t know what it says, he was insistent that you be the only one to read it.” He offered Stan a sad smile. “He misses you. We all do.”

“I-” Stan bit his tongue. He couldn’t say he missed them. He couldn’t make it real. “Thank you,” he repeated instead.

Eddie smiled. Stan was sure he understood.

Doctor Keene rapped his knuckles against the whiteboard. “Afternoon, class.”

Stan knew Doctor Keene’s eyes wouldn’t be on him. He had developed a reputation as the best student in the class, always knowing the answers but never saying them without Doctor Keene’s permission. Even though he liked to think he could withstand Henry’s torment, he had become a docile omega. One that would never cause trouble.

But for once this was in his favor. He carefully unfolded the note, being sure to keep it hidden beneath the desk as he read.

_ “I believe wherever dreams dwell, the heart calls it home. So may you untangle yourself from the twist of melancholy and let your thoughts carry you back to the birthplace of your truth.”  _ –Dodinsky

Stan couldn’t help but smile softly. Maybe his first real smile in a long time. Because he recognized the handwriting, the loops in the y’s and the slightly skewed dots atop the i’s. Bill could never get the dots to sit perfectly on top.

With gentle ease, Stan folded the note back up and slipped it between the pages of his notebook. It would be safe there. And Stan very much intended to keep it safe, to keep it out of Henry’s prying eyes and grasping fingers.

Distantly, Stan was aware his walls were starting to crumble.

–

Stan had begun to find himself looking forward to Doctor Keene’s lectures. Not because they had gotten any better, in fact they had gotten worse as he had begun describing biology in embarrassing detail, but because Stan was able to see Eddie.

Although Bill didn’t come around any more, Stan wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed about that one, Eddie had begun bringing him little presents from the Losers. After Bill’s note the gifts came in one every class. One day it was a sketch of Ben’s. The next class there was one of Mike’s famous recipes copied out in his meticulous hand. Beverly sent Eddie with a Polaroid she had taken when they were in middle school. It was before he had presented, Bill’s scrawny arm wrapped around his shoulders. Physical contact had been easy then. Normal. The memory of that touch made Stan shiver. The photo held second place in Stan’s heart to Bill’s note, but today that would change.

Today’s gift was something from Richie. The thin little book would be hard to hide, but when Eddie passed it to him before class Stan knew that he would keep it close. He recognized the worn, sun-faded and dog-eared pages, and the cracked spine by touch alone. It was Richie’s copy of  _ Donavan’s Brain _ . And although the book was covered in Eddie’s scent, a sweet soothing smell almost like calamine lotion, as Stan thumbed through the pages he could smell the other alpha. The scent, while not as powerful as Bill’s, calmed Stan. It made him want to arch his back and curl up in a pool of sunlight listening to Richie read the story in his voices. The thought made him nostalgic as he tucked the book away into his bag with his other treasures.

Doctor Keene strode into the room a smile on his face. He no longer bothered with role. There was no need to. He knew his students would show up through fear alone.

“Today we shall begin discussing heats,” Doctor Keene reveled as his students squirmed before him. He knew they must be uncomfortable discussing such a personal topic. “This is the time of the month when you are most fertile. Leading up to your heat your scent becomes irresistible to alphas. Your body releases pheromones which make you more attractive to them. They can’t control themselves around you which is why it is your responsibility to remove yourself from the public. On top of that you will begin to produce more slick in preparation for penetration and eventually your alpha’s knot. During the heat you became slaves to your bodies’ needs. You are nothing more than mindless breeding machines.”

Stan felt Eddie tense up. It was funny how he was beginning to pick up on Eddie’s moods more and more after only seeing him through Doctor Keene’s lectures. Stan mused that this is what it must be like to be part of a pack, not one that was enforced through fear, but one grounded in mutual affection and affinity for one another.

Doctor Keene began his next point, and Stan hastened to catch up in his notes. Although he didn’t agree with what Doctor Keene was preaching, Stan lived in fear for the day that Henry would decide to look over his notes to ensure that he was paying proper attention in class.

“During your heat, if you perform well your alpha may choose to reward you with food – yes Mr. Kaspbrak?”

“If it is so important that we breed,” Eddie spat the word out clearly uncomfortable by it, “then isn’t it necessary for us to be well fed during our heat?”

“Absolutely not. Omegas are undeserving of reward if they do not take their alpha’s knot properly.”

“But how can we if we are on the brink of starvation?”

“That is enough, Mr. Kaspbrak.”

Eddie stood up. “No it isn’t! The reason omega populations are down is because of alphas and betas who think like you do. Not feeding omegas as punishment during a heat is what is leading to such high omega and pup mortality rates. There are so many undocumented miscarriages that occur because of the abuse which omegas suffer at the hands of their alpha because of the ‘science’ you preach. If omegas are so important to society then we should be treated as your equals.”

“Enough.”

“You are poisoning an entire generation. These omegas don’t know better, and will believe the filth you spew. They’ll take the abuse because something in them tells them they deserve it. Something you planted.”

“Mr. Kaspbrak, you are to leave my classroom immediately. I will be writing you up. Expect a meeting with me, your alpha, and the dean of undergraduate studies in the near future. Now pack up your things and leave.”

Eddie looked like he was about to say more, but instead he grabbed his bag and left. Stan could feel the anger and humiliation rolling off of him in waves. He wanted nothing more than to go after Eddie, but instead he remained rooted in his seat. He wondered how much of Eddie’s speech had been meant for him.

Stan knew he deserved better, but there was some part of him convinced that it was a lie. Deep down there was a voice which told him that Henry had been right. He hadn’t been good enough to be Bill’s mate, that’s why Bowers’ pack had been able to take him all those years ago. Henry had told Stan that he would never be good enough for an alpha like Bill and that one day he would learn his place. Henry had said that he certainly wasn’t good enough for him either, but that he was doing Stan a favor and it would be good for him to remember that. That was before Henry raped him for the first time. Stan could still remember the humiliation as his body produced slick against his will. Henry had been pleased, telling Stan that even if his mind was rejecting him his cunt was more than willing.

Stan’s breathing became shallower as Doctor Keene continued his lecture as though nothing had happened. When Henry had pushed in for the first time he demanded that Stan beg him to start moving. Stan refused for as long as he could. Henry had slapped him in the face shouting at him to beg, but Stan wouldn’t give him that. He couldn’t. Already he began constructing a haven in his mind. One where Henry couldn’t touch him; a balloon drifting far out of reach.

It was only when Henry pulled out his knife and slid it across Stan’s ribs that he was drawn back. The pain was instantaneous, and the howl that Stan let out was deafening.

“Beg.” Henry had growled, the command evident in his voice.

Stan had no choice. Henry was right, had always been right. Stan didn’t deserve Bill, not when he was so hungry for pleasure, because now his body was beginning to demand Henry to move. It demanded the delicious friction and stretch of Henry thrusting into him, the orgasm sitting hot in his belly waiting for release. Panting, like a bitch in heat, Stan begged. And in that one act he had sealed his fate.

Stan pushed those memories aside. He thought about the book Richie had given him, and the photograph where touch wasn’t something that left him feeling used and dirty. Stan longed for the innocence promised in the trinkets the Losers gave to him. He wanted more than anything to still be the boy he had been when he was with them. But he couldn’t live in the past. It was too painful.

He focused back on the lecture and began to take notes. His hand shook. Without Eddie here the class was unbearably lonely. Stan hadn’t realized what a big impact Eddie was already beginning to have on him.

–

The following day, Stan brought a bagged lunch with him to campus. He had two classes which bracketed lunch, and there was no way that Belch would come get him just to bring him back within the hour. And Henry wouldn’t give Stan an allowance for the cafeteria, so a bagged lunch was his only real option.

The day was nice enough that Stan decided to eat outside. He found a table far enough away from the hustle and bustle of campus that he figured he would remain undisturbed. Last week he had been eating near the cafeteria and several knot-head alphas had begun to catcall him, laughing as they chased him away. So today he was on the other side of campus, a place he had never been before, and was determined to eat in peace.

The sky was a soft hazy blue, and large clouds rolled lazily across it like they had no place in particular that they needed to be. In the shade of the tree it was relatively cool, a breeze stirred, but not much else.

Stan began unpacking his lunch, laying each item out on the table before him.

“Stan?!”

Stan turned at the voice and found Beverly and Ben. They must have scented his fear, because they approached him like a frightened animal.

“What are you doing here?” Ben asked.

“I – I didn’t know that you’d be here.” Stan said, beginning to pack his food up again.

“Woah. Hold on, there’s no need to pack up,” Beverly said. She glanced over her shoulder at Ben before sitting down at the table as far from Stan as possible. “You can stay, we just weren’t expecting to see you near the design building. That’s all.”

Stan stopped packing his food, but made no effort to pull out the items he had already placed into the brown paper bag. He eyed Beverly and Ben curiously wondering if there was any way Henry would trace them being near him. They were both up wind of Stan, keeping enough distance that their scents wouldn’t mingle with his own. Slowly he began to relax his posture.

“Eddie’s told us what’s been going on,” Ben said, joining Beverly at the table.

Stan nodded.

“Have you been getting our gifts?” Beverly asked.

Stan cracked a smile. “Thank you very much. I loved the architectural sketch and photo.”

Beverly smiled. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank god, we weren’t sure if it would be safe for you to have those things, but we wanted to let you know that we were thinking about you.”

“Besides we couldn’t let Bill have all the fun,” Ben said.

Stan tensed at the name.

Beverly didn’t notice, “wait til we tell Bill about running into you –”

“Don’t!”

She turned to look at Stan, puzzlement clearly on her face. “Why not?”

“I don’t want him to know. I just think it would be better that way.”

“Stan, you know he misses you, right? We all do.”

Stan shook his head. “Stop please.”

“Stan?” Ben asked.

Panic began to rise. If Stan allowed himself to believe them then it would be all too easy to believe everything Eddie had said yesterday. If Stan had any hope, Henry’s treatment of him would become unbearable. All the work Stan had done would be for nothing and he would be pining for something he could never have. His breathing hitched, and as he drew in more air he could sense the soothing scent coming of Ben and Beverly. While it was nowhere near as effective as what an alpha could produce it calmed Stan down.

“I’m sorry,” Ben said. “We don’t mean to manipulate how you’re feeling, it’s just a panicked omega can draw unwanted attention, and we hate seeing you distressed.”

“I’m not distressed.”

Beverly and Ben shared a look.

“It’s okay if you are –” Beverly started.

“I’m not. I better leave.”

“No,” she stood. “We intruded on your lunch. Enjoy the rest of your day, Stan. I mean it.”

He watched as they walked away together. “Wait!”

They turned.

There was so much he wanted to ask them about. About their lives, their pack, about Bill. Instead he settled on something relatively innocuous. “Has Eddie met with the dean yet?”

They seemed disappointed in his question, Ben answered it. “Not yet. They have a meeting coming up, but things aren’t looking too good.”

Stan nodded.

The couple stood there for a moment, unsure if Stan would come up with any other strange outbursts to delay their departure, but when he didn’t they had no choice but to leave. Stan watched them and wished he weren’t so awkward, that he had been able to get them to stay. He felt as if a piece of his heart had left with them.

–

The next day Eddie didn’t show up for Omega 101. Stan held out his hope until the last second, silly as Eddie usually came ten minutes early, but when Doctor Keene began his lecture and there was no Eddie, Stan became resigned to the fact that he would be missing today’s class. Stan couldn’t help but miss the warm companionship of the other omega, the soothing scent of calamine lotion, the absurdly righteous anger. The presents. Stan realized that Eddie hadn’t given him anything of his yet. The thought saddened him in ways he couldn’t express. While he was jealous of Eddie’s position as Bill’s omega, he missed his friend even more. He thought maybe, given enough time, he could learn to be unselfish and find happiness for Eddie and Bill being together. He wondered if that was why Eddie hadn’t given him anything, maybe he had sensed the resentment and hadn’t wanted to be Stan’s friend at all. Maybe he was just doing everything as a favor to the others and not because he actually liked Stan. Stan knew that if he could confess all this to Henry that that’s what Henry would tell him. And Henry was always right when it came to Stan.

Stan tried to focus on the lecture instead of the sadness his thoughts caused him. He copied down notes in a shaky scrawl so unlike his normal handwriting as the rest of his mind wandered like a loose balloon.

When he left the class he found Mike waiting for him. The other boy smiled at Stan and began pushing his way through the crowd.

“Hey, can I walk with you?”

Stan nodded unsure what was going on.

Mike stayed by Stan’s side, but was sure to keep enough space between them so as not to freak out the omega. “Eddie sends his regards by the way.”

“Oh?”

“He said to tell you that he’s not allowed in Keene’s class until their issues are resolved. I’m sure you can imagine how devastated he is.”

Stan let out a small laugh.

Mike’s smile grew warmer at that. “Aw man, it’s been awhile since I’ve heard you laugh.”

Stan blinked and before he knew what he was saying he said, “I wish you were an alpha.”

Mike looked over at him with surprise on his face.

“I mean then you could have claimed me and I wouldn’t have ended up where I am.”

“Stan, even if I had been an alpha I wouldn’t have claimed you.” Mike said it so kindly and sweetly, but his words stabbed Stan like a knife.

His breathing went weird, it was becoming a common occurrence. The cruel side of Stan, which sounded so much like Patrick, teased that it must be a side effect of hanging around Kaspbrak so much. “What do you mean?”

“Aw, c’mon you know.”

“I don’t actually. All I know is that Richie and Bill have always loved Eddie, it might tear apart the pack but they both would choose him. Even Henry saw that… that’s why he… it’s why he took me. He knew –”

“Stan, stop.”

“Henry knew that I was the surplus. That no one could have wanted me. But if you had been an alpha maybe you could have claimed me. I would have been good for you, Mike. I would have hung off your knot –”

“Stan, enough. Please.”

Stan stopped. He supposed if he wanted to show Mike how good he would have been a great starting point would be shutting up when asked.

“It’s no good thinking like that,” Mike continued. “I’m not an alpha. I never will be, and even if I were I wouldn’t want you to hang off my knot like some heat-slut. You deserve more than that, Stan. Besides Bill –”

“I don’t want to hear about him.” Stan said. “I should get going. It was nice to see you.”

“Hang on,” Mike said, running to catch up with Stan. “Eddie wanted me to give you this. He said it’s the last one you needed.”

Mike passed Stan the gift, careful not to touch him. Once done he turned on his heel and began heading in the opposite direction.

Stan looked at Eddie’s gift. It was Eddie’s honor society pin from high school. Stan had wanted one so badly, but of course Henry wouldn’t allow him to join the honor society. The pin gleamed in the light and only when Stan tore his eyes away from it did he read the card that it was pinned to. Printed in Eddie’s careful lettering was an address. 1958 Jackson St. Stan realized at once that it was the Losers’ home address. His heart began to pound. If he were smart he would throw out the card and forget the line of neat printing, but already he was beginning to memorize the number and street name. Against his better judgement it was imprinted into his mind. 1958 Jackson St.

–

Belch picked him up and took him home.

As Stan began to cook dinner his mind wandered to the conversation he and Mike had. Why hadn’t Mike wanted him. Sure it had all been ridiculous speculation. Mike couldn’t change his secondary designation any more that Stan could, but it still hurt that Mike didn’t want him. Stan longed to be desired, wanted. As he cooked he thought about big hands wrapping around him, pinning him down, lips mouthing at his scent glands and bonding gland. He imagined an alpha’s deep rumblings of satisfaction as they mutually pleasured one another. Stan let out a soft whine. He needed to be filled with an alpha’s cock, to be told he was beautiful, wanted. He needed to know that he could inspire lust in another individual. He wanted to submit. To be good.

–

After dinner, before Henry could leave his place at the table, Stan sunk to his knees in front of him baring his throat to him.

“Alpha,” he purred. “I need you.”

He began mouthing at Henry’s stiffening cock through his jeans.

“Everyone out,” Henry ordered.

Belch and Vic backed away instantly, but Patrick let out a growl. Henry glanced up at him before looking back at the omega kneeling before him.

Henry began running his fingers through Stan’s curls, tugging him further into his crotch. “You’re needy tonight, aren’t you slut.”

Stan moaned.

“Think you can handle the both of us?”

Stan nodded.

Henry crooked his finger to Patrick allowing the other alpha to approach. Stan heard as Patrick undid his belt buckle and unzipped his jeans. He took one hand off of Henry’s thigh and reached for Patrick’s erection.

Stan lifted his head from Henry’s crotch and spat on Patrcik’s cock before taking the tip into his mouth. He moaned at the weight of Patrick on his tongue. He hollowed out his cheeks and began taking Patrick further into him, his hand making up the difference. Patrick thrust into Stan’s warm mouth, but before he could repeat the action Henry let out a growl.

He pulled Stan off of Patrick by his curls, causing the other’s dick to slide out of his mouth with an obscene pop. Stan let out a cry of pain.

“Teasing bitch, you finish me off first. Take care of him second,” Henry said.

With tears beginning to pool in his eyes, Stan helped Henry take off his pants and underwear before taking his angry red cock into his mouth. Henry’s dick was shorter than Patrick’s, but was much thicker. Stan was able to take it deeper into his mouth, as Henry controlled his movements with a hand on his head.

Stan could barely breathe, and what little air he was getting smelled entirely of Henry. He began to choke on the scent, as Henry continued to force his dick into Stan’s wet mouth.

“Henry,” Patrick’s voice was a whine of desperation. “Enough. I need to get into his wet cunt.”

Henry growled. “Shut up, Patrick. Fuck, baby, right there.”

Stan moaned at the praise, impaling himself further on Henry’s dick. The alpha’s hold was getting painful, and he really needed to breathe, but Stan was determined to pleasure the alpha.

“Enough,” Patrick said.

He pulled Stan off of Henry, wrenching his arm painfully in its socket. Stan let out a whine.

“Shut up, slut. You’ll get a cock soon enough.”

Henry rose and shoved Patrick away. “You don’t get to touch him when he’s sucking me off. Understand?”

In his daze Stan realized just how bad a fight between them would get. Desperately he tried to fill the air with a soothing scent that would get both alphas to back down. He was uncomfortably aware of his slick now, and how hard his own cock was. He needed to be touched, mated with. He wanted to get off so badly.

Against his better judgment he stuck his hand in his pants and began to stroke his cock. As an omega, it was smaller than the alphas’, but the pleasure which soared through his body must have changed his scent because both Patrick and Henry looked at him sharply. The hunger was unmistakable in their eyes.

Their fight was quickly forgotten as they turned their attention to the needy omega. Henry pushed Patrick onto the ground. He gestured that Stan go to him. Stan sunk to his knees and crawled to Patrick, taking his dick back into his mouth. As he sucked on Patrick’s cock, Henry came behind him and began running his hands up Stan’s shirt. He grabbed him by his hips, forcing him to present.

Stan moaned at how slutty he must look and took Patrick’s cock deeper into his throat.

Henry then pulled Stan’s pants down, and with little ceremony, shoved his cock into Stan. Even with all his slick, the stretch burned instantly and for a moment Stan could see nothing but bright white pain. As Henry thrust forward he gagged on Patrick’s dick, much to the other man’s pleasure. Patrick wrapped a hand in Stan’s curls and pulled him closer. Tears began to form once more. Henry thrust at a painful rate, his hips slapping against Stan’s ass.

“So wet for me, you fucking slut. You’re such a nasty, needy, omega whore. You think you deserve this pleasure, don’t you? You’re nothing but a set of warm, wet holes for us to use and breed as we like.” Henry gasped into Stan’s ear.

Stan hummed around Patrick’s cock. He could taste the man’s salty precum and knew he was getting close. Patrick’s knot had begun to form, his movements becoming limited. Stan struggled for air. He wanted to pull away. He tried to, his teeth scraped against Patrick’s sensitive skin, but the knot prevented him from doing so.

“Bitch!” Patrick shoved his cock in further.

Stan gagged, a sharp gurgling wet sound.

Tears sprung unbidden to his eyes streaming down his cheeks. Patrick’s hand moved from his hair and caressed his cheek.

“Pretty omega, weeping for my cock.”

Stan whined at the praise, disgusted but still craving more.

Henry grunted. He reached his hand around and began to roughly jack Stan off. The sensation was too much. More tears came as he whined in pain. He clenched around Henry’s dick. Anything to end this quickly.

“Nasty little slut, taking the both of us like this. You want praise?”

Stan couldn’t reply even if he had wanted to.

“Keep sucking me off,” Patrick slapped Stan’s cheek leaving a red mark.

He redoubled his efforts and soon he could feel ropes of hot cum painting the back of his throat. Patrick continued to stroke his cheeks, puffed out like a chipmunk from the intrusion. His touch was surprisingly light. Stan felt himself leaning into it, desiring Patrick’s affection. He swallowed the cum ignoring the sour taste, desperate for approval. Patrick’s knot didn’t go down immediately so Stan was stuck with a softening dick between his lips.

Henry was getting closer to cumming. With the formation of his knot, Henry’s movements had become limited so he ground his knot against Stan’s stretched lips causing them both to pant and moan. His grip on Stab’s hips tightened, fingernails digging into his skin drawing blood. The tip of Henry’s cock nudged against Stan’s prostate and he felt painfully close to cumming himself. Slick leaked out of his abused red hole. He was close. So close. The orgasm was beginning to build, hot and bright, tingling just below his belly.

With a moan Henry released his load into Stan. His omega hindbrain preened at the knowledge of getting off two strong alphas at once. A traitorous part of him desired a litter, even though he knew it wasn’t his time of month. Henry continued to tease him with his knot. His hand continued to tug at Stan’s erection, the over-stimulation causing more pain than pleasure.

Stan hissed, closing his eyes willing it to be over.

At last Patrick was able to pull away. After a few more painful moments, Henry tugged his deflating knot from Stan. The omega howled in pain.

After Stan regained his sight he whined. The lack of physical touch was too much. He needed to be held. He crawled to where Patrick was standing, desperate for intimacy. Desperate to cum. Patrick kicked him away.

Henry wiped his hand that had been jacking Stan off on his pant leg. “Disgusting whore.”

The two alphas left the dining room leaving Stan on the floor in a puddle of his own fluids. More tears threatened to come, but Stan wouldn’t allow them. He felt dirty and used. He tried to remind himself that he had wanted this, had needed to be desired and had asked for everything that had been given. It had been selfish of him to ask. That’s why it had been unsatisfying. He had been needy and demanding. He didn’t deserve to get off. He was just Henry and Patrick’s fuck toy. Something to be used. That was all.

He rose carefully, his knees and legs already sore. He dressed, head bowed, before beginning to clear the dishes. He would need to get a mop and bleach. Lots of bleach. His nose wrinkled at the thought of the strong chemical erasing the heady scent of their bond. He may not love Patrick or Henry but they were all he had.

In the bubble which separated him from the rest of the world a tiny voice argued that they weren’t all he had. He thought about the trinkets hidden in the bottom of his bag. The poem. The sketch. The book. A recipe. 1958 Jackson St. along with a pin. A photograph where touch wasn’t dirty or wrong. Stan closed his eyes and tried to remember that touch. A time when he had been pure. Clean.

The tears came now and there was no stopping the sob which rose in his throat.

–

Stan was grateful the next day was Saturday and he didn’t need to go to class. He could barely walk, his hips were bruised, his ass sore. On top of that his throat felt as if he had swallowed hot coals. His voice came out as harsh rasp as if he had spent a lifetime chain smoking packs of cigarettes. He hadn’t washed up last night, going straight to the closet of a bedroom and curling up in his blankets. His instincts demanded an alpha as he hadn’t finished, and he didn’t dare wash Henry or Patrick’s scent from his body. It was the only reminder he had that he had been wanted, at least for a little while. 

In the harsh light of day, Stan wondered how he had allowed last night to happen. How had he fallen so far to let them abuse him so grossly and even enjoy parts of it? He didn’t want to enjoy the pain and humiliation, but his body had responded, and he had mewled in pleasure. He had wanted their knots and he hadn’t even been in heat. The thought terrified Stan. He had never given up control so easily, had never been tempted to. What had gotten into him last night?

Stan began calculating the days, counting backwards. It couldn’t be right. He tried again and came to the same conclusion. His heat was late. It should have started by now, but it hadn’t. He counted again panic rising.

He couldn’t be pregnant with Henry’s pups. The thought made him violently ill and he wondered if it was the morning sickness. A hysterical cry burst from his lips.

He thought back to his last heat. Patrick and Henry had refused to touch him. They didn’t want to take the days off to help him through his heat so they had locked him in his room with his toys. Vic had had to bring him water and food every few hours, complaining that he reeked every time the door was open. Stan relaxed. He couldn’t be pregnant. No one had touched him. Now that he thought about it no one had touched him for his last few heats. Had that led to last night’s neediness? Was it a contributing factor to his late heat? Did it mean his next heat would be extremely hard to get through?

Stan wished he could ask someone these questions, but his only option was Doctor Keene and there was no way he would be discussing his intimate sex life with the older professor. Stan would rather die first.

–

Stan arrived early to campus on Monday. He needed to go to the library to print some documents before Doctor Keene’s lecture. As he was leaving he caught a familiar scent, mellow and warm like sunshine. He looked up to see George Denbrough staring at him.

He had gotten big since Stan had last seen him. There was still a certain roundness to his face, but he had lost his baby fat. And while he and Bill weren’t the same, Stan could certainly see the similarities in his eyes and the quirk of his lips. His heart skipped a beat and instead of running away Stan walked towards the younger man.

The beta was obviously releasing soothing pheromones, but Stan didn’t mind. He could breathe in the mild Denbrough scent all day.

“Hi, Stan,” George made no sudden movements as the omega approached. “What are you doing here so early?”

“Had to print an essay.”

“Yeah? Cool.”

“What about you?” Stan asked.

“I work here these days. Mike got me the job.”

Stan felt shame rise at the mention of the other beta. He had made such a fool of himself the last time they had met, all because he was a needy omega. Before he could begin drawing in on himself, George’s voice broke through to him.

“Stan?”

He looked up sharply.

“Hey, you’re alright. What’s going through your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay.”

“Do you see the Losers often?” Stan asked before he could overthink why he was asking.

George smiled, Bill’s smile. “Once a week. I go over for dinner with them. Sometimes some of my pack comes, but not always.”

Stan nodded. He wanted to know more about George’s pack. The last time they had seen one another George had only just presented, and now he was part of a pack. He pushed the questions down and asked what he really longed to know. “From an outsider’s perspective how are they, really?”

“The Losers?”

Stan nodded again not trusting himself to speak.

The light in George’s eyes dimmed a little. “They’re alright.”

While the words stung Stan knew it was for the best. They had moved on. Why shouldn’t they?

“But they miss you, Stan. Just yesterday they were talking about you over dinner.”

“What did Bill think about that?” The comment was out before Stan realized who he was speaking to. He dropped his head in shame, baring his neck to the beta.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” George’s brow furrowed.

“I – nothing. It was stupid to say.”

“No. I want you to elaborate. Please.”

“I should head to class.”

“Classes don’t start for another thirty minutes. C’mon, Stan, what’s really going on?”

“I just doubt that Bill likes to hear about me, that’s all.”

George laughed. “He was the one to bring you up.”

Stan’s head shot up. “Why?”

The humor died on George’s face. “You really don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Bill misses you Stan. He wants you back in his pack where you belong.”

“No, you must be mistaken.”

“Stan, why do you think Bill doesn’t want you?”

“He let them take me. He didn’t fight for me.”

“Oh, Stan. I can’t speak for then, but he wants you to be there now.”

“What about Eddie?”

“What about Eddie?”

“Eddie has always thought Bill hung the moon. He’s loved him for as long as I can remember. I thought that by now they would have bonded. He’s a better omega for Bill.”

“Eddie respects Bill as the leader of their pack, but he doesn’t love him that way. They haven’t mated, Stan.”

“But Eddie’s perfect. He isn’t broken.”

“Stan, you’re not broken.”

“No one is going to want me. I’m too messed up”

“My brother is always going to want you, Stan. After you both presented he was sure you were bond mates.”

Stan’s heart started to pound. “Those aren’t real.”

“Maybe not, but he was convinced that you were the only one for him.”

Georgie must be mistaken. There was no way that Bill actually thought –

“Then why did he let me go?”

“I really think you should talk to him.”

Stan shook his head. “I can’t. I should go.”

He did his best not to run from George, using his sweater sleeves to wipe the tears from his eyes. He felt that all he had done recently was cry.

Eddie didn’t show up to Doctor Keene’s lecture. Stan wondered if he had had his meeting yet. He wondered what the outcome was. He tried to pay attention during the lecture to keep himself from thinking about what George had said. Bill couldn’t have really believed they were bond mates. It was a childish fantasy. George had probably only said those things to make him feel better. If Bill really thought that – no. Even following that line of thinking was too painful for Stan to consider. Class ended and Stan hurried to gather up his things.

As he was leaving Stan ran into Richie. His scent, nowhere as near as potent as Bill’s was soothing nonetheless and reminded Stan of simpler times out by the quarry. He was sick of running away and crying so instead he approached the alpha. He could feel curious eyes on him, but he ignored them.

“Hi –”

“Hiya, Stan the Man.” The smile was the same heartbreaking smile, the tone was deeper but the inflection was the same as when they were younger.

“How’s Eddie?”

“He’s not suspended which is good. But he won’t be returning to Doctor Keene’s class. He’ll be taking the course next semester with a Doctor Nell.”

Stan tried to hide his disappointment. His one link to the past was gone. Sorrow threatened to drown him, but he was determined not to cry in front of Richie of all people. “I’m glad he isn’t in too much trouble.”

“You should have heard some of the things he said in the Dean’s office. There were times that Bill was worried that he might have to hold Eddie back,” Richie said cracking a fond smile.

Stan could imagine, but not even that could bring a smile to his face. He was exhausted and just wanted to curl up in his bed at home. “Why are you here, Richie?”

“Well couldn’t let all the others have the pleasure of seeing your pretty face now could I?”

Stan wasn’t used to the light teasing. It had been so long since he had heard it. He didn’t know how to respond.

“Hey, c’mon Stan. What’s an alpha got to do to get a cute lil omega like you to smile?”

“Don’t.” The words were too close to something Patrick or Henry might say.

“Woah, there. Clearly I said the wrong thing. I’m sorry, man. C’mon let me know that you’re still in there.”

Stan looked at Richie and again felt jealous of Eddie. Richie would never claim Stan when there was an Eddie for him. But if Bill had claimed Eddie, would Richie have claimed him? Stan would be willing to be second choice to Eddie if it meant he could stay with his friends. He had never loved Richie that way, but he could have learned.

“Why did you let me go?” Stan asked.

“Aw, fuck. We wanted to fight, but we weren’t even really a pack then. You remember? Bill and I were constantly on the verge of snapping each other’s heads off. There was no real leadership. It only got worse when you were gone. I resented him for so long. I couldn’t bear to look at him knowing that his weakness was the reason we lost you to them. Things have been a mess for so long.”

“Why didn’t you come get me? Once things settled.”

“Bill thought that maybe you were better off. He figured you would have run back to us, and when you didn’t it was because you didn’t want to be a part of a pack that couldn’t protect you in the first place. Bill thought you didn’t want him. He blamed himself for not being strong enough to defend you and bring you back. He thought you hated him all these years for being weak. He never wanted you to go, he just didn’t think he was worthy of you.”

“Bullshit.” Stan sobbed. “I fought them for so long, waiting for you to come.”

“We thought you would make it back to us, Stan. We always thought you would break free of them.”

“Well I didn’t. They’ve tainted me. I’m beyond repair. I don’t deserve to be rescued.”

“That’s not true.” A fire burned in Richie’s eyes. “You don’t deserve how they’re treating you. Nobody deserves that.”

“You sound like Eddie.”

“Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe Eddie is right?”

Stan let out a noise equal parts frustration and despair. “He can’t be.”

“Why?”

“Because if he is then I’ve allowed them to treat me like… like they have. I let them do those things to me. I let them.”

“That’s not true,” Richie reached out and rubbed his scent gland along Stan to release pheromones that would calm the omega.

Stan relaxed but then stumbled back like he had been hit. “I have to go.”

He did his best not to run.

Richie watched him go noting an odd scent in his wake. It was heady, almost pungent. He blinked away his disorientation. It must have been due to Stan’s discomfort. The halls were empty now, and Richie turned already late for his next class. He didn’t care. All he could think about was the tortured look in Stan’s eyes so different from the boy he remembered. Despite Bill’s orders to give Stan space, Richie was going to find a way to bring back his best friend. He couldn’t let Bill order him around this time.

–

When Stan got home he went immediately to the small bathroom off of his room. He began scrubbing his skin until it was raw hoping that Richie’s scent didn’t cling to him. Next he moved to his room and began rearranging the pillows and blankets on his bed. He hollowed out a spot in the center of the bed, big enough for two, before meticulously building up soft walls around the spot with extra pillows and blankets. It was shabby as Henry didn’t allow him much, but Stan couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride at his work.

“Hey, fag, what’s for dinner?” Belch asked, opening his door. He caught sight of Stan’s actions. “Shit. You about to go into heat?”

Stan froze. He hadn’t even realized what he had been doing. He looked down at his work in dismay, all of his pride was replaced by horror. It was a nest.

Belch was sniffing the air intently. His brutish face screwed up in puzzlement and disgust. “Ugh, Uris, you reek. Henry!”

Stan couldn’t stop the tremors running through his body. An alpha couldn’t control themselves around an omega in heat, isn’t that what Doctor Keene had taught them? Everything that was about to happen would be Stan’s fault. He hoped Henry would just tell him to take care of it himself. It would be a normal heat, everything would be okay. He kept promising himself that as he heard Henry’s tread on the stairs above.

Henry appeared at the door. His annoyance at being called darkened as he scented the room. He shoved Belch out of the way and entered the room. “Jesus, Stan. Overdoing it much?”

“Sorry.” Stan shrunk back into his nest.

“Friday not enough for you?”

“It was enough! More than enough.”

Henry let out a bark of a laugh. “And yet you smell more potent than usual. Ripe for the taking. Now why do you think that is?”

“You haven’t touched me.” Stan shut his mouth immediately regretting what he had said. It was stupid. Only an omega so close to their heat would be so stupid.

“I thought we established that I touched you plenty on Friday.”

Stan let out a whine. He could smell Henry now, and even though he usually hated his scent, it was starting to smell good. “Not during heat. You haven’t touched me. I’ve only had my fingers and toys.”

Henry smacked Stan across the mouth. “Don’t get smart.”

Stan found himself leaning toward Henry, craving an alpha’s touch. He reached up to Henry’s arm tugging at him. “Stay, please. Henry. I’ll be good. I promise. I’ll do whatever you say I’ll be good for you please –”

Henry caught Stan’s wrist. The hold was a vice grip, and as much as Stan tried to pull away he could not.

“What’s this?”

Stan keened in pain.

“An alpha. Who touched you?”

“No one!”

Another smack across his mouth.

“You lying bitch. You want to be touched this heat? I’ll touch you. I’ll touch you so no one would ever want you. You won’t be able to cheat on me then.” Henry pulled his knife from his jean pocket, pressing it just above Stan’s collar. “I’m going to make sure everyone knows you’re mine. When you look in the mirror you won’t forget. I’ll carve my name into every inch of your flesh.”

Stan tried to back away, but Henry had him pinned. “Tell me you want it, Stan. To be mine. Say it.”

Henry ground his erection against Stan, causing the omega to melt. The fight was beginning to leave him, and that was more terrifying than anything Henry had planned.

“C’mon, Omega. Say it. Tell me to mark you.” Henry’s knife pressed against Stan’s throat the cool metal warming under the contact with his sensitive skin.

Henry buried his nose into the scent gland by Stan’s throat drinking in the fear and desire that came off the omega in waves. He growled, deep in his chest, clearly pleased by the effect he was having on Stan.

Stan could feel the inner omega jumping to comply. The pleasure which was rolling off of Henry was intoxicating. Before he knew what he was doing he bared his throat to Henry. The real him inside the balloon hated his body for betraying him. This was it. If Stan didn’t do something now it would be too late.

“Say it.” The alpha’s orders were deeper, commanding. Stan wouldn’t be able to resist much longer.

Before his thoughts could cloud over completely, Stan thought about trinkets. Things he would line his nest with if he were sharing it with his bond mate. This was a game he played when he was waiting for his heat, desperate to be touched. It distracted him from the loneliness. He dreamt about a room with a big bed, his nest made of fluffy pillows and thick, warm blankets. The room was always the same, but depending on his mood what he decorated it with changed. Today there was a lovingly printed recipe pinned to the wall, beside it a drawing of a building on vellum. There was a photograph on the bedside table along with a dog eared book. A pin sat on top of the book glinting in the light. 1958 Jackson Street.

Stan had never thought that this room would exist outside his head, he never allowed himself to believe anyone would accept him after what Henry had done. The knife began to dig into Stan’s throat. His time was almost up. 1958 Jackson Street.

… w-wherever dreams dwell, the h-heart calls it home… untangle from the t-t-twist of your melancholy … let your thoughts carry you b-back…

Bill.

The balloon popped.

This was real. 

If he didn’t fight back now he would never get another chance.

Stan kicked his legs, destroying the nest he had so carefully made. He squirmed under Henry, primal instinct overriding his heat. He drew a leg up and kneed Henry’s groin.

The alpha recoiled instantly, pain radiating across his face. In his surprise he curled inwards on himself, pulling the knife away from Stan’s throat.

Stan tried to push Henry off him, but the alpha was much bigger than he was. His window was narrowing, panic began to set in again.

Henry was howling and it wouldn’t be long until the others came.

Stan managed to wriggle free. He had jumped off the bed when Henry’s arm shot out and grabbed him.

“You’re not going anywhere. You fucking cunt!”

“Let go of me!”

“You’re going to lie down and take it good. You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you, Stan?”

The hold on his wrist was tightening. There was a growing pain in his shoulder as he tried to jerk away. Henry was getting up now, the window narrowing further. All Stan wanted was to curl back into his balloon in the room he had created. Let Henry do whatever he wanted with his body, the real Stan would be safe.

“Good, omega,” Henry crooned.

Stan could feel himself being dominated. His thoughts were going hazy as if hidden behind a gauzy film. If he returned to the room in his head none of this would matter. It wouldn’t be real.

The words 1958 Jackson Street flashed through his mind like a neon sign breaking through the haze. This was real. If he let Henry touch him it was real.

Henry was closer now, his scent surrounding Stan.

With his free hand Stan punched Henry square in the jaw. He threw all his weight into the hit. All his anger and fear. The pain in his knuckles lit up hot and bright, but he felt Henry let go of his other wrist.

Stan didn’t look back as he ran.

Outside he could feel the cool rain on his skin. It was late and dark now. There was a chilly breeze too. His teeth chattered in his head. As the adrenaline began to leave his system he remembered why he had gotten into the fight. His heat was approaching. It was a terrible idea for him to be out, maybe he should go back, beg for forgiveness.

Stan didn’t know where he was going. He looped around the streets, any sane person would think he was drunk and lost. He was getting colder. He crossed his arms around his chest to conserve warmth. There was nowhere to go, and his heat was coming. Stupid, omega. He wouldn’t be able to prevent any alpha from taking advantage of him in this state. He was practically asking for it wandering around like this. And part of him wanted it. He wanted some alpha to ravage him and fill him with pups. His omega hindbrain was buzzing at the thought, all higher thinking was disgusted by his own biology.

He had been foolish to think he could survive without Henry. Where was he going to go? Without an alpha looking out for him he might end up somewhere worse. A breeding farm. As his heat approached his thoughts became more cloudy, the separation between hindbrain and higher thought widening. He couldn’t stay out here for much longer.

Dimly he tried to remember somewhere safe he could hide. There must be a culvert or abandoned building he could spend the night in. He felt something flicker in the back of his brain, but the cloud of his heat was too thick and he couldn’t access his higher rational.

Jackson Street. Something Jackson Street.

He looped through deserted streets keeping his eye out for a Jackson Street. He wasn’t sure what was there, but he knew that that was where he would be safe. His clothes were drenched now, hanging heavily from his equally soaked limbs. His entire body was shivering. Pain radiated from his left hand and right wrist. One was bright the other a dull throbbing ache. He couldn’t stop shivering.

After what felt like hours of wandering, Stan found himself at Jackson Street. It was a pretty little domestic street, practically across town from Henry’s place. He had no idea how long it had taken him to get here.

Stan walked down the middle of the street willing himself to remember the address. Something Jackson Street. 

The rain and heat-fog blurred all the houses together. Something 8 Jackson Street. That had to be it. To Stan it seemed as if all the houses were locked up for the night. Closed against the rain. Only he was left on the outside. 19 something 8 Jackson Street. Of that he was sure. But he couldn’t remember the missing number. The more he thought about it the more it disappeared behind the fog.

Stan was getting scared now. His feet ached and he couldn’t consciously remember what he was doing out here. He had to stop. He just needed to go somewhere to warm up. That was all that mattered now.

Stan found himself looking up at a snug little house, which must contain two apartments. The one on the left side’s windows were bright despite the late hour. In the ambient light, Stan could make out a well kept garden. It looked safe here. Happy. Even the door was a cheery blue which complimented the yellow shutters. Pretty. Maybe the inhabitants would take him in until he could remember the address he was looking for. Hopefully they wouldn’t turn him away. Stan wasn’t sure what he would do if he had to keep wandering.

Drawing up what little courage he had left Stan approached the door of 1958 Jackson Street. He knocked, tentatively soft, barely heard above the rain.

The door opened. Light streamed from inside causing Stan to blink. At first he couldn’t see who was at the door, but that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore. “Please I need –” His words were slurred.

“Stan?”

His eyes focused and there before him was Bill. His last conscious thought was that he was dreaming. Stan collapsed as the last reserve of energy abandoned him.

Bill caught him and carried Stan inside, kicking the door shut. Stan Uris had come home.


	3. Part Three

“Bill, who was that?” Beverly asked, coming down the stairs.  


“He’s b-burning up. Get a damp w-wash cloth,” Bill said, shocked at the heat the omega was giving off.  


He moved to the couch to set Stan down. As he tried to pull away the omega let out a soft whine which broke Bill’s heart. He longed to keep holding Stan, but that wasn’t fair to the omega. He didn’t even know why Stan had shown up at their doorstep. As much as he wanted to keep skin to skin contact he wouldn’t take advantage of Stan while he was like this.  
Beverly ran to follow his instructions as other members of their pack came to see what was going.  


“What’s going on?” Eddie asked entering the living room with Ben. The omega froze when he saw Stan. He ran to him, and Bill moved away to the farthest corner he could find. Ben followed at a slower pace, coming to a stop behind the couch. It was hard to tell if Stan was unconscious or simply exhausted. His eyes were open, but it was clear from his vacant stare that he wasn’t aware of his surroundings. His lips were chapped and parted slightly. His chest rose with shallow breaths which were no real indicator of his state. Every once and awhile the omega let out little pants and whines.  


Mike returned with Beverly and the two of them went to the couch with a bowl of water and a washcloth.  


“Christ, he’s soaked.” Mike said. “Ben can you go grab some dry clothes from my room?”  


Ben nodded, grateful to have something to do. He hurried to find something warm and soft.  


“Stan? Love?” Beverly asked. “Can you hear us?”  


“We need to get that collar off of him. He can’t fucking breath,” Eddie’s tone was rising with panic.  


Mike reached for it, but as soon as his fingers touched Stan the omega let out a whine and thrashed away from his touch.  


Mike looked helplessly at the others.  


“He’s in heat,” Richie said, his tone curiously pitched. The others turned to find him in the door to the kitchen breathing as shallowly as possible. There was a pained expression on his face. “Can’t you smell it?”  


With the water drying on Stan’s skin his scent was becoming more prevalent. It filled the tiny apartment with a natural smell of basil and honeysuckle. The heady redolence was suffocating, once pointed out it was impossible to ignore.  


Eddie paled. “I’ve never smelled an omega in heat who’s scent was this strong.”  


“Has he been on suppressants? That could lead to a particularly strong heat,” asked Ben.  


“I don’t know.” Eddie said.  


Stan whined. It was a high hollow sound which demanded attention.  


The Losers all turned to look at him.  


“Stan, we need to get you out of these wet clothes,” Beverly said.  


She tried reaching for him again, but he jerked away from her hand. She looked up at Bill helplessly.  


“S-Stan, let us help you,” Bill said, his alpha’s authority deepening his tone.  


Stan let out soft moans of contentment. Bill nodded to Beverly and she tried to touch Stan again but he flinched as if burned.  


“I think he wants an alpha,” Beverly said.  


Bill looked at Richie. “You d-do it.”  


“Bill –”  


“This isn’t time to argue,” Mike said.  


Richie bit his lip and nodded before moving to the couch. The other Losers shuffled out of his way.  


“Alright, Stan. It’s me. We gotta get this collar off of you,” Richie said. His tone seemed to soothe Stan, but as he reached for his throat the omega started to howl. Richie removed his hand as if he had been burned. “He doesn’t want me.”  


“J-just help him, Richie.”  


“He doesn’t want me to touch him,” Richie said. “I think he wants you.”  


“N-no.”  


“He doesn’t want any of us to touch him, but you were able to carry him in here. It’s you Bill.”  


“I c-can’t.”  


“Don’t get on your noble high horse now. He needs dry clothes, and no one but you can touch him. This isn’t time for your guilt, Bill –”  


“It’s not about m-my guilt. It’s about consent. I am not taking away his consent when –”  


“Don’t be an idiot. He can’t consent in this state. He’s out of mind with heat stupidity. He needs you. We’re not asking you to mate with him, just to get him into dry clothes.” Richie said.  
Bill looked at the other Losers who had been watching the conversation like a tennis match.  


“I can’t take away his autonomy.”  


Eddie came over to Bill and grabbed his hands hoping to soothe the alpha. “‘Chee’s right. Stan can’t consent right now, but he needs help and he’s not accepting it from any of us. You have to try.”  


Bill looked to the couch where Stan was writhing around, little panting moans coming out. He didn’t want to take advantage of the situation, but seeing the black leather collar around Stan’s throat made him angrier than he could express. He couldn’t allow Stan to keep wearing it, or his wet clothes. Resigned, he moved towards the couch.  
Richie backed away allowing him to kneel by Stan’s head.  


His scent was stronger here. Clear and undiluted, like Mike’s garden after a spring shower, a sweet aromatic natural thing. Living. Bill felt drawn to it immediately. He wondered how Richie had kept from touching Stan at all. It was irresistible.  


“S-Stan. I’m going to g-get this collar off you, and w-we’re going to dry you off. We’ve got some w-warm clothes for you.” Bill said trying to keep his voice low and soothing.  
Stan let out a keen that was all want.  


Bill reached out for his neck. When his fingers touched the soft skin there it was like sparks igniting between them. It took everything in him to keep from rumbling deep within his chest. Stan, who wasn’t worried about such things, was openly purring. Trying to stay focused, Bill found the latch of the collar and quickly undid it, throwing the black leather away like it was a snake. He found everyone could breathe easier with it gone.  


Where the collar had been Stan’s neck was pale and discolored. It had probably been too tight and chafed. Bill figured Henry had never let him take it off which explained the discoloration around Stan’s throat. Without thinking his fingers traced the pale line, following it to his scent gland. The omega let out another soft whine of contentment.  
There was a cough behind him.  


Bill needed to focus, but being this close to Stan was making it difficult.  


“Stan, can you t-talk to me? We have some warm clothes for you to change into, but we’ll need you to move. Can you do that?” Bill asked.  


“Yes, Alpha,” Stan murmured.  


This time Bill couldn’t stop the purr which rumbled through his chest. It was an immediate response to Stan’s words. Pleasure colored his scent, causing the omega to mewl.  


Bill helped Stan to a sitting position stripping him of his wet shirt. It was a difficult task as Stan insisted on leaning into Bill’s space as much as possible. Where they touched there were bright sparks which raced across Bill’s skin, and while inconvenient he couldn’t push Stan away in this state. At one point his head lolled onto Bill’s shoulder, his wet curls full of that infatuating scent tickling Bill’s cheek. At last he managed to get the large sweatshirt on Stan and laid him back on the couch. The omega whined at the loss of contact.  


“Bill, we need to get him out of those wet jeans,” Beverly said. Reluctance colored her tone, but Bill knew she was right.  


“Maybe we should go,” Ben said.  


“We’ll be in the kitchen. Come get us when you’re done,” Mike said.  


The others left. Eddie went last, having the most difficulty leaving Stan.  


Now it was just Bill and Stan.  


“Stan, I’m g-going to need you to lift your hips so I can get your pants off. Can you do that for me?” Bill asked.  


Stan mumbled something incomprehensible but ultimately complied. He let out a moan as Bill pulled the jeans off of him. Suddenly Bill was painfully aware of the scent of Stan’s slick. He hurried to put the sweat pants on the omega, and not breathe in at all. Once he was done he pushed the omega’s hips back down onto the couch earning him another moan.  


He went to the kitchen which smelled soothingly of his pack. All eyes turned to him as a heartbreaking keen came from the living room.  


“What are we going to do about him?” Mike asked.  


“Can w-we just put him in my room until his h-heat is over? Rich and I c-can go to George’s for the week,” Bill said.  


“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Ben said.  


“Why not?” Bill asked.  


“Whether or not he’s been on suppressants is hard to tell, but it’s clear that he’s touch starved. I don’t know if he’s had an alpha with him for any of his recent heats. I think that may be why his scent is so strong for lack of a better word. It’s like his biology is demanding an alpha to help him through this one to make up for the others. I’m worried that if we deny him that this heat could last an unnaturally long time and be quite painful for him,” Ben said.  


“Jeez, I wish you were teaching Omega 101,” Eddie said.  


Ben flushed.  


Bill closed his eyes. “So you’re saying o-one of us has to – to m-m-mate him?”  


“No just um breed.” Ben looked uncomfortable by his own suggestion.  


“He can’t f-f-fucking consent.”  


“I know.”  


“We can’t.”  


“I don’t know that we have a choice,” Ben said.  


“M-Mike, tell him we can’t.”  


“I’m not thrilled by it, Bill. But he needs an alpha to help him through this.” Mike said.  


“W-what if it causes m-more damage? He’s been w-with… them for so long. If I, or Richie, m-mate him won’t that cause emotional damage?” Bill asked.  


“I don’t think so,” Eddie said so quietly that Bill almost missed it.  


“Why not, Eds?” Richie asked.  


“Because you’re bond mates.”  


Bill snorted. “V-very funny, Eddie.”  


“I’m not kidding.”  


“C’mon that was only something I b-believed in when I w-was little. They aren’t real.”  


Eddie shot a look at Richie before continuing. “I don’t think that’s true. I think they are real, and I think you and Stan are it. It makes sense. There’s a reason his scent is so powerful to you. Stronger than mine, even though I’m an omega in your pack. You can’t deny it, Bill. It has an effect on you. Different than mine, more potent. I’m guessing when you touch it feels like pure electricity. You probably knew he was in heat, even before ‘Chee said it. That’s why you were standing so far away from him, right?”  
“That doesn’t mean we’re bond m-mates.”  


“No, but you love him. You’ve wanted him for your mate, so it makes sense for you to help him through this.”  


“I know, but what if he doesn’t want me?”  


“How could he not?” Richie asked.  


“It’s n-not a joke. He can’t consent when he’s like this. It was one thing to change his clothes. It’s another to m-mate with him.” Bill said. He refused to say breeding. It felt too impersonal. Anything he did with Stan would be nothing short of mating, and that was a terrifying prospect. Especially if the omega didn’t really want him.  


“You’re right,” Richie said. “But I believe Ben. I don’t think we can just leave him in a room with some toys.”  


As if to prove his point another whine erupted from the living room, more heart wrenching than the last.  


“W-what if he hates m-me? For not protecting him from before.” Bill asked, guilt was warring with desire and he wasn’t sure which he wanted to win.  


“I think it’s safe to say that he doesn’t hate you,” Beverly said.  


“He wouldn’t see me at school.”  


“It was self preservation,” Bev said. “He didn’t want to talk to any of us, and that’s something we’ll have to deal with. But we can’t when he’s like this. You’re the only one he let touch him. I think he knows what he wants even if he can’t communicate it. And I know you’re not a huge fan of mating him when he’s like this, but your mate needs you and I don’t think you get to ignore that. So what are you going to do about it, Alpha?”  


Another whine. Piercing and desperate.  


Bill turned on his heel and rushed into the living room.  


The Losers looked at one another.  


“Think George will be willing to take all of us in?” Richie asked.  


–  


Stan let out another whine. He wasn't sure where he was or what was going on. All that he knew was the alpha who had been touching him, the alpha who made all the hurt and need go away, wasn't here with him. He squirmed around desperate to get some friction down there to ease the building desire, but it wasn't enough. He prepared to let out another whine, maybe this one would be good enough to bring the alpha back, but before he could he felt arms wrap around him and pick him up. Stan curled around the alpha, blindly kissing his throat and letting out mewls of pleasure.  


"It's alright, Stan. I've g-got you."  


The voice had a warm quality in its softness that made Stan feel like all his worries had melted off of him.  


The alpha carried Stan upstairs, a door opened and shut. The foreign smells faded, and all that was left was the warm spicy scent of the alpha.  


He placed Stan on top of a bed.  


“It’s not m-much of a nest, but I hope it will be okay.”  


Stan couldn’t focus on the alpha’s words. He longed to be touched. Blindly he reached out, grasping the alpha’s hand he began to rub his wrist releasing more of the intoxicating scent. Stan purred as their scents mingled creating something new. Stan pulled the alpha on top of him. He could hear the surprised huff from the other man as his weight settled on top of him. Stan began licking the other’s throat and mating bond, causing the bigger man to shiver.  


“Stan –”  


“Knot me, Alpha.”  


The alpha moaned.  


Stan began grinding his hips against the alpha’s, the friction causing incandescent sparks of pleasure to light up in his belly.  


“I need you,” Stan said. “Please.”  


The alpha buried his head in Stan’s neck and began nipping at his scent and bonding glands. Stan shuttered at the reciprocated touch.  


“G-good omega,” the alpha breathed into the base of his hair.  


Stan’s nerves were on fire. He reached up and pulled the alpha’s head to his own.  


The alpha sensing his initiative kissed Stan on the lips. It was messy, their noses bumped and there was all too much tongue, but the pleasure was like nothing else. Stan licked his way into the alpha’s mouth, mewling all the while as the alpha rumbled around him.  


The alpha pulled away, deciding that they needed air, but Stan wasn’t satisfied. He pouted and tried to follow the alpha’s lips. He felt a gentle hand on his chest keeping him down. Stan whined curiously.  


“E-enough. We need to breathe.”  


It was only then that Stan realized how starved for oxygen he was. He allowed himself to relax under the touch of the Alpha, determined to show him how good he could be.  


“God, you’re b-beautiful.”  


Stan preened at the compliment. He reached out to the alpha, his fingers played with the hem of his shirt. Needing more, his skin brushing against the soft flesh of the alpha’s stomach. The touch was light, playful, and soon it wasn’t enough. Stan began tugging at the alpha’s jeans desperate for his cock. He whined as the alpha continued licking at his throat. While it was good it wasn’t enough, his heat demanded everything his alpha could offer.  


Stan let out a growl of frustration, and the alpha began to pull away. Panic filled Stan. Maybe he was being too needy, perhaps he wasn’t good enough. He stopped stroking the alpha’s abs. Keeping his hands to himself physically hurt him, went against all his instincts, but he couldn’t allow his alpha to leave him in this state. He prepared to be punished, but the hit never came.  


–  


Bill looked down at the cowed omega. Stan didn’t meet Bill’s gaze, his head bowed in submission. He was trembling slightly. It broke Bill’s heart. What had Henry done to him?  


“H-hey.” Bill brought his finger to Stan’s chin and forced the omega to look at him. “I w-want to make sure that this is what you want.”  


Bill could see Stan struggle to focus, leaning into his touch all the same.  


“Stan, please. I w-want this.”  


Stan began to purr, clearly believing that all Bill needed was to be convinced by Stan’s submissive biology. Bill gritted his teeth.  


“I n-need to know that you want this too, and not just because of your heat, but that you w-want it.” He left off the ‘with me’ as the specifics would be too confusing for Stan’s heat-addled state.  


“I want you, Alpha. I’ll be good for you, please,” Stan took Bill’s finger between his lips.  


The wet heat which surrounded Bill’s index was immediate. He let out a strangled moan as Stan circled it with his tongue, and when he hollowed out his cheeks the suction was incomparable.  
Stan looked up through dark lashes and Bill knew he couldn’t hold out much longer. “Are you s-sure?”  
Stan nodded.  


Bill growled allowing his alpha instincts to take over. He pulled his finger from between Stan’s lips and replaced it with his tongue. As he kissed the pliant omega, his other hand began pulling at his sweatpants. Stan lifted his hips to aid him in removing them.  


Once his pants and underwear were gone, Bill could smell the heady scent of Stan’s slick all over again. The hand that wasn’t currently tugging Stan’s curls reached down to stroke the omega’s erection.  


Stan whimpered in ecstasy as Bill’s hand wrapped around his dick. In slow deliberate pumps Bill brought on Stan’s first orgasm, the omega trembling under him.  


As the aftershocks rolled through his body, Bill held Stan close breathing in the pheromones of the sated omega.  


“So good, my pretty omega.”  


Stan hummed, eyes closed. When they opened he began to mouth at Bill’s throat. Between his nips he began to beg the alpha to fuck him.  


“I want your cock in me, filling me up. I want you to pound into me, bruising me in search of your own pleasure. I’ll be good for you. Let me help you cum, please, Alpha.”  
Bill groaned at Stan’s intoxicated speech.  


Stan’s hands went to Bill’s jeans, fingers nimbly undoing the button and fly with disturbing ease. Bill allowed Stan to strip him of his pants and underwear before pulling away to pull off his shirt. Once it was off he returned to the omega.  


With one hand, Bill held Stan’s wrists above his head, pinning the omega down. Then with the index of his other hand he began to circle Stan’s tight entrance. As he did so, he used his tongue to tease Stan’s sensitive nipples.The omega’s breathing changed as Bill played with his hole. Slowly he inserted the first finger, rubbing the sensitive skin around the hole with his thumb.  


–  


Stan watched the first finger disappear into him with wide eyes. He could feel it stretching his muscles, prepping him for what was to come. He struggled against the alpha’s hold, eager to take it all now, but it was no good. He whined as pleasure flickered within him.  


He salivated at the thought of the alpha’s cock. He could see that he was big, bigger than anything he had taken before. The cock was already hard, a deep red, and leaking precum. Stan wanted to taste it so badly. He wanted the Alpha to fill him up. Fantasies of his alpha’s pups came to Stan and he wanted nothing more than to carry his litter.  


The alpha added another finger.  


Stan shuddered. The stretch was nothing compared to what he had taken in the past, and the alpha’s pace was frustratingly slow. Despite the pleasure it brought he wanted more. Stan pushed himself back trying to impale himself on the alpha’s hand.  


“Stan.”  


The alpha’s voice caused him to freeze. He tipped his head curiously.  


“B-be patient, sweetheart.”  


Stan let out a whimper.  


“You’re so good for me like this. Let me make this g-good for you.”  


Relief surged through Stan, and the alpha continued. He inserted another finger, and Stan began to feel the burn in the stretch of his muscles. He let out a little huff.  


“Is it t-too much?” The alpha paused once more.  


Stan shook his head.  


“Use your voice, sweetheart.”  


“No, I want,” Stan stopped unsure if he was allowed to ask for what he wanted.  


The alpha released his wrists, hand going to Stan’s cheek, rubbing it soothingly with his thumb, “tell m-me what you want.”  


“More.”  


The alpha smiled a boyishly sweet smile, eyes bright with mischief and joy. He withdrew his fingers, causing Stan’s hole to clench painfully around nothing. He whined.  


“P-patience.”  


The alpha lined their hips up. Stan could feel the head of the alpha’s cock nudging against his entrance. Slowly the alpha pushed into his heat, causing them both to moan at the sensation. Stan’s muscles contracted as the alpha bottomed out. He gave Stan a moment to adjust to the intrusion before he began to thrust.  


Stan wrapped his legs around the alpha’s waist, his nails dug into the other’s back.  


“Fuck. Right there. My handsome Alpha. So good. Fuck me. Fill me with your pups. I want to be full with your litter.”  


The alpha’s thrusts stuttered at Stan’s words. He could feel the contentment radiating from the alpha. With renewed vigor the alpha began to pound Stan. The room was filled with wet sounds, skin against skin, and their moans. Stan dropped a hand to fist the sheets beneath him, grounding himself. The pleasure was building again, blinding him to everything but the weight of the alpha above him.  


The alpha’s knot was beginning to form, as he thrust in it caught against the edge of the hole, stretching it painfully.  


Stan let out a high pitched whine.  


The alpha tried to pull out, but his knot prevented it. The pain mixed with the pleasure. Stan panted as he ground his hips against the alpha’s. The alpha shifted his movements so as not to hurt him.  


Stan could feel the orgasm building in him, he clenched around the alpha desperate for them to cum together.  


“F-fuck, Stan.”  


Stan kissed the alpha’s throat, tasting the pleasure and satisfaction in his sweat.  


The alpha’s cock hit Stan’s prostate, and Stan came all at once hot and bright. He tightened his grip on the sheets. The only thing he could smell was the alpha’s soothing scent. His alpha came seconds later, his hot seed flooding the omega’s womb.  


Stan let out a purr, nestling closer to the alpha.  


–  


Bill adjusted Stan so that he was comfortable, careful not to hurt the omega as they were still joined on his knot. He reached over the side of the bed and grabbed a dirty shirt to clean up the omega. Stan was already half asleep, exhausted by everything he had gone through.  


Bill wiped off the omega’s cum from his stomach. He dropped the shirt, and held Stan to him, kissing his shoulder before he drifted off.  


–  


A couple hours later, Stan awoke blinded by his heat once more. He woke Bill by sucking him off. This time Stan rode him until they both came, before collapsing on his chest. Bill had never slept better.  


–  


The next morning, before Stan awoke, Bill crept out of his room to get food and water for the omega. Unsurprisingly, he found the house empty. He went to the kitchen and found a note on the counter. It read:  


There are some provisions for you in the fridge. I apologize if they are lacking, it was all I could do to convince the others to wait and allow me to make you food. They were desperate to get out before the “fuck fest” started. (Richie’s words.) If you need anything we’ll be staying with George’s pack for the next few days. Call us “when we won’t be traumatized to come back.” (Again, Richie’s words.)  
– MIKE  


Bill smiled at the note. He missed his pack, and couldn’t wait to have them and Stan under one roof. Already he had begun to think of the omega as his. He shook his head fondly and went to the fridge. He grabbed some of the waters as well as a brown paper bag labeled breakfast. Looking inside it he found two apples, four granola bars, and two juice boxes. He was touched by Mike’s thoughtfulness.  


Stan let out a mournful howl, and Bill rushed upstairs feeling strangely protective of the omega’s needs. Food would have to wait.  


–  


They coupled three more times in the morning and again in the afternoon and evening for four more days. By the last day, Stan was able to sleep through the night without being awakened by his desire.  


Although Bill knew he should sleep on the couch and give the omega some space, he couldn’t help but stay here and watch him sleep. It was stupid to think that Stan would want to be his mate, even though the words brought an immediate warmth to Bill’s chest. He had failed Stan when they were younger. Stan deserved a stronger alpha, one who could protect him, someone stronger than Bill. He was just a placeholder for now, helping Stan through his heat because there was no one else. But even at the thought of someone else having Stan like this, a violent jealousy ran through Bill. He couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else having his mate. The intensity of the thought frightened Bill.  


Stan rolled over letting out a pitiful moue at finding the bed empty. Bill was conflicted. One part of him wanted to nestle up next to the omega and hold him, the other part feared that he might never let go of Stan if he did. Finally his base instincts won out and Bill climbed into the bed. He wrapped his arm around Stan, comforted at once by his scent. His worries began to leave him, and sleep came to him at last.  


–  


Stan woke up, the barest trace of his heat remaining. There was still a spark of desire, but it was nothing like the wildfire of the past five days. The second thing he was aware of was the smell of sex mingled with his scent and an alpha’s. An arm was around his waist. He turned over and found the slumbering form of a strange alpha.  


Panic spiked in his system. Instinctively he moved away from the stranger. As if sensing his fear the alpha moved over, blinking awake.  


“You’re up.”  


Stan’s heart stuttered. “Bill.”  


The sun was coming in through the window, causing Bill’s hair to look more red than usual. His eyes held a cautious expression, like he was afraid of what Stan might do. There was a soft, sad, smile on his lips. “I hope you’re not d-disappointed.”  


“Are you going to leave me?” Stan hated the terror he heard in his own voice. He was being silly, this was Bill. But he still needed to hear the words from Bill’s lips.  


“I’ll stay if you w-want.”  


“I want you to stay,” Stan said.  


“Yeah?”  


Stan nodded. “Will you, will you hold me again?”  


Bill looked surprised, but he opened his arms all the same. Stan burrowed into his side. He marveled at the warm contact, feeling Bill’s ribs expand and contract as he breathed. Without thought he began nosing Bill’s bond gland. Bill let out a deep rumble in his chest, causing Stan to realize just how intimate his action had been. He pulled away suddenly. He knew that they must have done more based on how the room smelled, but that had been because his heat had demanded it. This was something new.  


“Sorry.” He hated the squeak in his voice, a tiny part of him was expecting to be hit.  


But Bill just rolled over to look him in the eye. “It’s okay. I l-liked it.”  


“You did?”  


“Yes.”  


Stan eyed him, studying to see if Bill was lying.  


“I w-want to apologize to you,” Bill said.  


Stan’s eyes widened.  


“I didn’t protect you before. It’s my f-fault everything you went through. I was too immature to go after what I wanted. I just thought you would fight them and come back to us. And then I thought you didn’t want to be a part of my pack after I messed up. I don’t think I am enough.”  


Stan reached out to touch Bill’s face. “How could you think you’re not enough?”  


“Don’t. I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”  


Stan frowned. “Doesn’t matter, I could never hold this against you.”  


“S-stan –”  


“Just thinking about you got me through the worst days until it became too painful. I thought about when we were kids, before our secondary genders complicated things. It was easier then. You were always riding that bike of yours, I thought you were going to fall. I worried about it so much. Sometimes when I was there I dreamed of you on that big bike of yours. I thought about how you always listened to me when the group threatened to drown me out. You would look at me and I knew. I knew I was being heard. You included me, made me feel special, like I mattered. I will always love you for that.”  


Bill swallowed. Stan watched his Adam’s apple bob, unable to look him in the eye. “You l-love me?”  


“Yeah, I guess I do.” Stan’s gaze met Bill’s.  


“I want you to be m-my mate.” The words were out before Bill could stop them.  


A different sort of pleasure filled Stan’s chest, expanding like a balloon about to pop.  


“B-but only if that’s what you w-want.”  


Stan nodded unable to speak.  


Bill’s fingers dropped to Stan’s bonding gland. “I want you to mark m-me too.”  


“Yeah?”  


“Yeah.”  


“Bill, I want this with you, but I’m scared. I don’t know if what Bowers did to me has damaged me completely, or if I’ll be able to bond properly. I don’t want you saddled with a mate who –”  


“We can take it as slow as you need. There’s no rush.”  


“Really?”  


“W-we have the rest of our lives.”  


Stan nuzzled his head into Bill’s shoulder.  


Bill laughed.  


“What?”  


“Do you think the ‘fuck fest’ is over? The others are desperate to see you.”  


“Fuck fest? Really?”  


“Richie’s words.”  


Stan rolled his eyes. “Of course, I should have known. Let’s shower first, and start some laundry. I don’t want them to see me like this.”  


Bill smirked, “what? You don’t w-want them to see you freshly fucked.”  


“Beep beep, Bill.”  


“Can I kiss you?”  


Stan nodded.  


Bill ducked his head. It was surprisingly sweet, just Bill’s lips pressed against Stan’s, slow and easy. Bill was right, they had the rest of their lives to do this.  


-

Stan was curled up on Bill’s lap, hair still damp from their shower, when the rest of the pack showed up. Their scents, while familiar in a far back section of Stan’s mind, were still overwhelmingly foreign. His nerves must have soured his scent, because a moment later Bill was wrapping his arms around Stan and leaning down to gently kiss the crown of his head.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “They’re going to be really happy to see you.”

Sure enough, when Richie burst through the door a moment later he was all wide smiles and bright eyes, though he made no move to approach Stan. “Stan the man!”

“Hi Richie.” Stan couldn’t deny the smile that spreads across his lips, soft and easy like warmed butter. He couldn’t remember the last time a smile came that easily.

But he shouldn’t be surprised, things had always been easy around Richie. Stan still remembered when he first presented, how terrified he had been that things would change between them. He had been sure that they wouldn’t be able to stay friends, that his omega scent would overwhelm any platonic feelings Richie felt for him.

But the only comment Richie had made on the subject was a half-funny joke, the kind that made Stan groan and roll his eyes more than it made him laugh. But he was grateful.

Richie was easy.

How nice it would have been if everything else was that easy as well.

“How was the fuck fest?”

Stan groaned. “Don’t call it that, Richie.”

“He’s been calling it that all week,” Eddie’s voice trickled in from the hallway. A moment later his hands appeared through the doorway, shoving Richie out of the way and forcing himself inside. “Move, Richie. The rest of us want to see Stan too.”

“Awe,” Richie teased, reaching over to pinch Eddie’s cheek. “Eds is feeling feisty today-”

“Fuck off, asshole,” Eddie bit, moving to bat his hands away. The others trickled in as Richie and Eddie were busy arguing, moving around them as if they weren’t worried it’ll turn into a full blown fight in the living room.

Bev rolled her eyes fondly. “They haven’t changed at all, in case you were wondering.”

“I can see that,” Stan said.

“Awe, c’mon, you love us,” Richie grinned. “Admit it, you missed this.”

“How are you feeling?” Mike asked gently.

“Better,” Stan said, relieved at the change of subject. “I’m sorry for how I dropped in on you-”

“Don’t apologize,” Mike said firmly. “We’re your friends, Stan.”

“But-”

“Stan,” Bill’s voice was soft, and even though Stan knew he wasn't using his alpha voice, he fell silent immediately. “Really, please don’t apologize.” _You’re part of our pack,_ Bill wanted to say. But even now it felt like too much too soon. He couldn’t risk scaring Stan off now. Instead he said, “We’re not letting you go back to those assholes now.”

“Okay,” Stan said, voice small. Then, louder, because he didn’t believe himself the first time, “Okay. Thank you.”

“You are staying with us, aren’t you?” Ben asked. He looked almost nervous. As if Stan would ever say no.

Stan nodded. “Do I have to get a new collar?”

Stan could feel the muscles in Bill’s shoulder tense up, coiling tighter and tighter until Stan worried they might snap right off. “No. No, of course not. Wh-Why - Why would you think that?”

Stan shrunk back. “I dunno. I just thought-”

“Stan, I would murder Bill in his sleep if he made you wear a collar,” Eddie said firmly.

Stan flushed, feeling ashamed of his question. Stupid. He should have known. Why would Bill-

“Hey.” Mike’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, soft and warm. “It’s okay. No one’s gonna judge you for thinking like that, alright?”

Stan nodded jerkily. “Alright.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Bill said gently. “You’re an equal member of the group.” _Of our pack, you’re part of our pack._ “If you want a collar, I’ll buy you a collar.” _I’ll buy you whatever you want. Anything that will make you happy. Anything that will make you stay._ “But I’m not going to force you to wear one.”

“I don’t want one,” Stan said without a second thought.

“Then you won’t wear one,” Bill said, pressing a kiss to Stan’s temple. The action was so sweet that Stan had to hold back a soft mewl, practically melting into Bill’s side. “Are you hungry? I can make you something.”

Stan looked up at Bill with wide, brown eyes. “Are you sure?”

Bill nodded. “Yeah, it’ll just take a second.”

He squeezed Stan’s shoulder gently before slipping out from under him and making his way into the kitchen. Ben joined him a moment later, silently padding through the doorway and pulling out a fresh loaf of bread.

“Thank you,” Bill murmured. He grabs two of the slices, laying them flat on the counter before searching the cupboard for the rest of the ingredients. Peanut butter and honey.

Back in school, before any of them had to worry about any of this shit, Stan had brought peanut butter and honey sandwiches at least once a week. Students weren’t allowed to eat peanut butter in the cafeteria, so the Losers would always relocate to outdoor seating for the day. If they could, they would snag one of the picnic tables. But with so many people attending Derry High, it was almost impossible to find a free one. Usually they sat beneath the big oak tree behind the school.

In the years that came, they saw less and less of Stan.

Bill had waited by that oak tree at least once a week for the next year. He had this irrational hope that Stan would come by there one day, peanut butter and honey sandwich in hand and ready for Bill to steal him away.

But he never did.

His junior year, the visits to the oak tree dwindled down to once a month. By the time he was a senior he didn’t go at all. It was clear Stan wasn’t coming, and the tree was only a painful reminder of everything he had lost.

“Bill.” A gentle nudge of his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts. Ben was staring at him, eyes wide and a half empty jar of honey held out in front of him. “You okay?”

Bill nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just - Just thinking. Um - Thank you.”

He took the honey, grabbing the peanut butter as well before moving to set them beside the bread. He spread the peanut butter on first. That was the way Stan liked it, peanut butter smeared on the bread and honey drizzled on top, and Bill would be damned if he would change it now.

“I know you’re still nervous,” Ben said, voice soft and gentle. “But Stan missed you. I don’t think you’re going to scare him off, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Bill hesitated, knife held out halfway to the bread. A glob of peanut butter fell off the edge, landing in a pile in the center of the bread. “I don’t think he’s going to run off again.” He tried to leave it at that, but evidently that would not be enough for Ben. So, with a sigh, Bill continued, “I just don’t want to mess up again. I keep thinking that maybe he would be better off with - I dunno - Richie.”

Ben wrinkled his nose. “Stan and Richie would never work out, are you kidding? I’m pretty sure they would both go crazy. And we would have to deal with Eddie on top of it.”

Bill couldn’t help but shake his head fondly. He re-tightened his grip on the knife, starting to spread the peanut butter across the bread. “God, Eddie. He’s never going to tell Richie how he feels, is he?”

“Maybe he will,” Ben said, ever the optimist. “Someday. But even if he didn’t, I don’t think Richie would go for another mate.”

Bill hummed softly. “I just don’t want Stan to feel like he has to stay with me if-”

He froze suddenly. Slowly, his eyes darted up from the sandwich and up towards the kitchen window. A rotten scent was wafting in through the screen, gagging his throat and making his eyes water. It had been years since the last time that scent crossed his path, but he could recognize it anywhere.

Sure enough, an old Plymouth Fury was parked on the curb. The owner had parked hastily, one wheel driven up and over the curb and onto the sidewalk, as if decent parking was simply too much to ask in this trying time.

But, then again, when had they ever done anything decent?

“Shit,” Ben mumbled, eyes wide as he stared out the window at the approaching figures.

“For fuck’s sake,” Bill growled. “Stay here.”

He reached the door right as someone knocked, the force of it making the Welcome Home sign Mike had hung clatter against the wall.

“What the fuck do you want?” Bill snarled.

For a moment it was silent. Then Henry barked out a laugh, harsh and grating, like nails on a chalkboard. Even after all these years, it sent shivers down Bill’s spine. “You have something of mine, Stuttering Bill.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bill said firmly.

Henry scoffed. “Oh, please, I can smell him from here.” The door handle jiggled again. “C’mon, Denbrough, let us in. You don’t have any claim over him anymore.”

A low growl built in Bill’s throat. “Get off my property, Bowers.”

“Sure, no problem,” Henry drawled. “All I need is that whore you’re hiding and I’ll be happy to go.”

Bill ripped the door open. Henry smirked widely at him, clearly amused by Bill’s bared teeth and wide stance. As if he were being threatened by a puppy.

“Move over,” Henry said easily. “Patrick, go get him.”

Patrick smirked and moved to step inside the house. But Bill stood his ground, blocking Patrick from entering with his body. He sneered up at him, one hand coming up to plant itself firmly in the middle of Patrick’s chest and push.

Patrick stumbled from the force of it, only managing to catch his footing by grabbing wildly onto Belch’s shoulder.

“No,” Bill said. “I told you to get off my property.”

Henry chuckled, the sound rattling horsley around his throat. “C’mon. An omega needs his alpha.”

“You’re not his alpha. And I’m not letting him go with you.”

Henry’s eyes darkened. How could it be possible for Bill Denbrough to keep something he wanted? That was his? Throughout all of school he had managed to keep Bill under his thumb. Made sure he knew who the real Alpha was. Even if Bill had always had a bit of fire to him, even if he had always managed to bite back, Henry always came out on top.

Then Bill spent a few months without him and immediately forgot all the power Henry held over him? Henry wouldn’t stand for it.

Stan was his. And he was going to keep him one way or another.

-

Stan had recognized his pack’s - no, his old pack’s - scent immediately. The familiar smell made him recoil. He had nearly jumped into Richie’s arms, desperate for something - someone - to protect him from the terror in the doorway. But he caught himself at the last minute. Don’t be needy. Alphas don’t like needy omegas. Instead, Stan curled in on himself. Creeping away from the couch and towards the farthest corner of the room, all he knew was that he needed to put as much distance as possible between himself and Henry Bowers’ goons.

The sound of their voices alone made his heart pound. This was it. They were coming to take him away. And Bill would let them. He wouldn’t jeopardize his entire pack’s wellbeing for Stanley Uris. No matter what he had said this morning, or how much Stan wished for it to be true.

To his horror, a small sliver of himself wasn’t opposed to the idea of going back. That apartment, with its grey walls and gloomy interior, had been home for so long. As much as Stan hated it, there was a sort of comfort in the hatred. A sense of homeyness in the fear.

He wasn’t cut out for anything else.

“Stan?” A hand slid into his own, fingers interlocking and squeezing gently. The gentle scent of calamine floated by him and when he looked over, sure enough, Eddie was looking back at him. He looked like he wanted to say something. Like he had the perfect phrase on the tip of his tongue. But it flew away at the last moment, leaving Eddie with nothing but empty promises. And he would be damned before he made those. So, instead, he squeezed Stan’s hand again and offered him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I love you.”

The force of the words knocked the wind out of Stan. All at once he felt breathless. When was the last time someone told him they loved him? When was the last time they told him out of nothing but pure, genuine love? “I love you too.”

Eddie wasn’t an alpha. But he was Stan’s friend, and that thought alone was enough to uncoil some of the nerves knotting together in his stomach.

A shout echoed in from the front door.

It made Stan jump, fingers squeezing tighter around Eddie’s hand. Eddie held back just as tightly.

The shout was followed by a crash.

Stan barely heard the whimper that slipped past his lips. But Eddie heard it loud and clear. Instinctively, he stepped in front of Stan. Just like Richie did when an alpha leered at Eddie for just a moment too long.

Footsteps were making their way towards the living room.

As much as Stan wanted to hide his face in Eddie’s shoulder, he couldn’t seem to pull his eyes away. He needed to see that face enter the doorway. Needed to be certain of his fate.

But he knew who it would be anyway.

Henry’s grin was all too familiar to him. Still, he couldn’t help the dread that pooled in his stomach at the sight of it. He didn’t risk entering the living room - not yet. With the rest of the Losers between him and Stan, it wasn’t worth the energy he would waste just getting to Stan.

“Stanley,” he cooed. “Be a good boy and come here.”

Despite himself, Stan’s knee jerked forward, as if his body were subconsciously wanting to go back to Henry. But he forced himself to stand his ground. Forced himself to cling to Eddie’s hand.

“Get out of here, Bowers,” Richie snarled. “Stan isn’t part of your pack anymore.”

Henry sneered at him. “Try and stop me, Four Eyes.”

“Real classy,” Richie said. “Does shit like that impress your goons?” He glared at the betas flanking Henry, gaze sharp enough to make them shrink back the littlest bit.

Eddie tugged on Stan’s hand. “C’mon,” he whispered. “While they’re distracted.”

Slowly, he started to tip-toe along the back wall. There was one more exit from the living room, leading directly to the Loser’s bedrooms. All they had to do was stay out of Henry’s pack’s way long enough to lock themselves in Eddie’s room.

Distracted by the rest of the Losers - Richie looking just about ready to tear Henry’s head off - Henry didn’t even glance Stan’s direction. He was able to slip off with Eddie, ducking through the doorway and making a dash for the hallway. Unfortunately, as they ran, they got a clear view of the front door.

Stan was positive, if he hadn’t gotten a look at what was happening outside, they would have made it to Eddie’s room just fine.

But of course things couldn’t work out that way.

One glance through the open doorway and Stan froze. Patrick was the only one of Henry’s goons who hadn’t come into the living room, and now it was clear why. He had been stuck dealing with Bill.

Bill, for once, was doing a decent job holding his own against Patrick. And Stan was sure that if he hadn’t thrown him off, Patrick would have been left in the dust. But as Stan lingered, Eddie tugging desperately on his hand, his scent drifted lazily through the hallway and past Bill. All it took was one moment, Bill’s eyes flitting away from his opponent and to his mate, and Patrick had his opening.

Patrick grabbed Bill by the throat, slamming him against the wall in a manner so ferocious Stan couldn’t help but shriek. Bill crumpled to the ground.

Stan could feel Eddie tugging on his hand, desperately begging him to, “Please move, Stan. Please come with me. C’mon. Please-”

In one sudden movement, he threw Stan behind him.

Then Patrick was in his face, glaring down at Eddie with razor sharp eyes. Just looking him in the eye was enough to make Eddie’s knees shake. All at once, the memories of everything he had put up with from Patrick during high school came flooding back. All the times Eddie had begged Bill or Richie to walk him to class because he didn’t want the alpha to catch him alone. All the times he had run, heartbeat thundering in his ears.

If there was one person Eddie was scared of, it was Patrick Hocksetter.

But there was no one to protect him now, and there was nowhere to run.

“I should have known you would turn into a brat,” Patrick growled. “Maybe we’re lucky we got stuck with Uris, you would have been impossible to train.” He gripped Eddie’s chin, turning his face slightly to get a better look at him. “But I’m sure I could do it. Tell Denbrough to give me a call if he ever decides to grow a pear and treat you like a real omega.” He echoed his words with a laugh, a dark, hollow sound that filled Eddie’s stomach with a horrific sense of dread. “Now move over.”

And Eddie did the only thing he could do. Hocked up a giant wad of saliva and spat it directly into Patrick’s face.

Patrick jerked backwards, a shout slipping past his lips and his hands flying up to clear his face. “You fucking whore! I’m going to fucking kill you!”

Eddie didn’t have any doubts about Patrick’s intentions. He looked murderous enough, eyes bright and crazed and face covered in bruises from the hits Bill had managed to get in.

A loud whack echoed throughout the room. The force of the blow was enough to knock Eddie off his feet. He stumbled into the wall, his hands flying to his stinging cheek. Through the tears of pain starting to blur his vision, he could barely see Patrick making his way around him.

Patrick’s grin widened as he advanced on Stan. It made Stan sick to his stomach, and suddenly he was glad Bill had never finished making him lunch. Because by now it would have been all over the floor.

“Stanley,” Patrick cooed. “Why don’t you come back home? Henry and I want to show you just how much we’ve missed you.”

Stan shook his head, slowly backing up further into the hallway. “I’m going to stay here.”

Patrick barked out a laugh. The kind that always made Stan flinch, because he was sure it would be followed by some sort of jab at his self worth. “What makes you think they want you? They didn’t want you back then. They sure as hell don’t want you now.”

“That’s not true!” Stan screamed. “You know that’s not true!”

“Oh yeah? Why would they want you? C’mon, omega, they’ll keep you around for a week and then throw you out once they realize you don’t know how to pleasure an alpha. You’ll be crawling back to us in no time.”

Stan shook his head. “No. No, no, that’s not true.”

Stan could feel tears starting to prickle behind his eyelids, heavy and hot. What if it was true? What if Bill got sick of him in a month? Then what? He would go back to Henry? He would end up on the streets?

Patrick’s grin widened at the sight of the wobble in Stan’s lower lip. “Just come back now. Save yourself the heartbreak.”

His hand was reaching towards Stan, fingers ready to curl around the flannel Bill had draped over his shoulders this morning.

Stan squeezed his eyes shut. Maybe Patrick was right. Maybe this would all be easier if he just went with them. Maybe Henry wouldn’t be so hard on him then. The one thing he was sure of was that the Losers would never forgive him for dragging them into this mess.

So he squeezed his eyes shut and waited for Patrick’s hand on his shoulder. Waited to give in.

But he never grabbed him.

Instead, when he finally managed to build up the courage to open his eyes, there was Bill. Dried blood was starting to cake his nose and upper lip and the look in his eyes was nearly as murderous as Patrick’s, but he looked like Superman to Stan.

-

Bill’s vision had returned only to find himself on the floor, the lower half of his body sticking out of the doorway. His head was pounding, a deep, pulsating headache forming just behind his forehead. As if someone had hit him with a sledge hammer.

On top of that, the room was swirling with confusing smells. Smells that weren’t his pack. Smells that were sour and rotten, and made the headache so much fucking worse.

And then there was something else. Something sweet - honeysuckle and basil. It was hidden behind the rotten smells, cowering behind the comforting scent of his pack. Cowering. The omega was scared.

With a low groan, Bill forced himself to his feet. His brains felt like they had turned to lead in his head, smashing against his skull with every step forward he took.

Someone was shouting now, words burning like acid. Another alpha. The one that was scaring the omega - his omega.

His lips pulled back in a snarl and his arm darted out, fingers curling tightly around the alpha’s wrist. He could feel the alpha’s arm strain in his hold, fighting to free itself, but Bill held on tight. With a snarl, Bill tugged as hard as he could, forcing the other alpha away from the omega. As soon as he could, he grabbed the alpha by the shoulders and slammed him against the wall.

“I told you to get out of my house,” he growled.

He could see something flicker in the other alpha’s eyes. Fear. Good. Let him feel even half as much fear as he instilled in Bill’s omega.

-

Stan watched with wide eyes, unable to look away from the sight before him. Bill had his forearm pressed against Patrick's throat, teeth bared and eyes burning with the intensity of a small fire. Patrick’s breathing had turned labored. His chest heaved with every breath, unable to take in enough air to be truly comfortable.

When he didn’t answer, Bill grabbed his shoulder with his free hand and slammed him against the wall. “I ss-said get out of my house!”

Henry must have smelled Patrick’s fear - which is a strange scent indeed - because he came bursting into the hallway a moment later. He looked almost ridiculous, eyes popping out of their sockets and mouth agape. There was blood flowing from his nose, accompanied by a nasty scratch just below his left eye and a littering of bruises up and down his arms.

Stan couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him. It’s not that anything was particularly funny, quite the opposite actually, but Stan couldn’t stop. Not even when Henry’s eyes turned on him, or when he started to stumble his way towards him. It was all just so insane. Stan was sure he would wake up at any moment, in his shoebox of a room back in Henry’s apartment. Sure someone would pound on the door in just a few seconds, demanding he make breakfast. Sure this was all just a dream.

“What the hell are you laughing at?” Henry growled, looking absolutely furious. He knew he was fighting a losing battle. And having Stan, the one person he could always control, laugh at him only made defeat that much more bitter. “What the fuck are you laughing at, you little whore?”

Stan could hear blood rushing past his ears. The terror was really starting to sink in now, but still he couldn’t stop the giggles from slipping past his lips. “Henry-”

Before he could finish his thought, Bill was letting Patrick fall to the ground and moving to stand between Stan and Henry.

Henry growled lowly, clearly displeased at this development. “Move over, Denbrough.”

“Make me,” Bill bit.

Henry lunged forward, thinking surely this would be a fight easy won. But things had changed. Bill wasn’t the scared kid who let Henry push him around anymore. And he wouldn’t be ever again. His arm swung out before Henry could make the first punch, hitting Henry square in the jaw.

Henry staggered.

Wind rushed out of Stan’s lungs.

Bill hit Henry again. In the ribs this time. The force of it gave Henry no choice but to double over, which Bill took as an opportunity to drive his elbow between Henry’s shoulder blades. Already off balance, Henry collapsed on the ground with a weak grunt.

For a moment it was completely silent. Stan couldn’t take his eyes off the alphas in front of him, positive Henry would bounce back up and beat Bill black and blue. But he didn’t. He stayed down, eyes practically burning a hole in the hardwood floor.

“Get ou-out of my house,” Bill growled lowly.

Henry didn’t move. “You’re a thief.”

“You’ve nearly killed each of us on more than one occasion, I don’t think you’re in any position to complain.”

Henry sneered up at him. “Then I guess I should have tried harder.”

Bill drew his fist back again.

“Bill!” Stan was shouting before he even had a chance to think it over. All he could think about was Bill with murder in his glare. Bill with his teeth bared. Bill with blood coating his knuckles. It was all too similar to the alpha he had just escaped. “Please don’t do this.”

In a flash, Bill was by his side. He cupped his face with hands not yet bloodied and brushed his thumbs over Stan’s cheekbones with a feather-light touch. “What’s wrong?”

Stan’s breath was shaky as he looked up at Bill. A part of him was certain Bill would hear his request and laugh. Or worse. But another part of him - the bigger part - knew Bill wouldn’t. Not Bill. Not the one person he had ever really loved. “Please don’t hurt him.”

The fear in his eyes must have been more evident than he thought, because Bill nodded without question.

There’s a dry chuckle from behind Bill. “I knew you would see reason eventually, Stanley.”

“I’m not going back with you,” Stan said, voice firm despite how he clung to Bill’s arm. “But I’m not letting my alpha turn into you.”

Stan hadn’t realized how easily the words would roll off his tongue. But it felt natural to call Bill his alpha. As if he couldn’t possibly be anything else. Judging by the way Bill’s grip tightened on Stan’s hips, he seemed to be thinking something along the same lines.

Henry stood up warily. But, to Stan’s amazement, he didn’t make a move to come closer.

“This isn’t your home,” Henry said. He was starting to look tired. A part of Stan regretted telling Bill to hold back. He was sure if he had let Bill hit him even a few more times, Henry would have given in. But then the thought of Bill’s knuckles covered in blood crossed his mind again and Stan shuddered. He couldn’t let Bill go down that path. Even if it meant he went back home with Henry. “You know you don’t belong here. No matter how many gifts they try to buy you with.”

Stan stiffened. “What?”

Henry reached into his pocket, retrieving a small pin from his pocket. Eddie’s pin. The address was still attached, though the paper was significantly more crumpled than Stan remembered.

Stan shouldn’t be surprised that Henry went through his stuff. And yet a stab of betrayal pierces his heart. Those gifts were supposed to be something special. Something untouched by Henry.

Bill narrowed his eyes. “Give those back.”

Henry tutted softly, shoving the pin back into his pocket. “Let the omega speak for himself. Isn’t that your whole schtick? Or was that just some desperate attempt to get in Kasbprak’s pants?”

Stan risked a glance towards Eddie. He was still huddled against the wall, though by now Richie had reached his side. In fact, as Stan looked around, it seemed as if everyone had somehow managed to gather around without any of his knowledge. They were watching carefully, unmoving. Waiting for their respective alphas to give them instructions to attack.

“You know you don’t have to try that hard,” Henry drawled. “They’re easy to train.”

Richie made a move towards Henry, but barely got half a step before Eddie was pulling him back. Stan couldn’t hear them, but he saw the small shake of Eddie’s head, the desperate plea in his eyes. Richie went limp at once, letting Eddie drag him back to his side and out of danger.

“Shut up,” Bill snarled. “Shut the fuck up, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bill.” Stan tugged on his sleeve. “I can speak for myself. Please.” Bill looked unsure but, to his credit, he kept his mouth shut and waited for Stan to speak. Stan took a deep breath. Held it. Released it all in a rush of air. “You need to leave.” He leveled his gaze with Henry’s. Despite having Bill to ground and protect him, a part of him was still screaming to submit to Henry. To hide. To do anything to protect himself. But he had more people who were willing to look out for him now, and he couldn’t let them down. “You’re outnumbered. And the only reason you aren’t halfway to the ER right now is because of me.”

Henry let out a dry laugh. “Oh, please. I could have handled Denbrough.”

Vic and Belch shared a nervous look behind Henry’s back. After the years Stan had spent in their house, he knew what that look meant by now. It meant Henry was bluffing, and the rest of the pack knew it.

“Then why didn’t you?” Stan pushed. “Why didn’t you push him off? I mean, you could have handled him, after all. You did it before. Why didn’t you do it now?”

Henry’s face was burning red. Stan couldn’t help but feel a flush of pride at that. For once Henry was the one being humiliated, for once Stan had the upper hand.

“You little brat-”

Henry had barely gotten a step before Bill was lurching forward, stepping between him and Stan and staring down at Henry with fires burning in his eyes. Something about him - the wide stance, the bared teeth, the hands that twitched as if it physically pained him not to reach out and hit Henry - made Henry uneasy. Or maybe he was just reliving the moment Bill finally managed to pin him to the floor. But either way, the moment Bill was bearing down at him, Henry’s figure started to slouch. He backed away slowly.

“You’ll pay for this, Denbrough.”

“I’m sure.”

“You better watch your back.”

“Just get the fuck out.”

Henry’s pack slunk out after him, each one looking more dejected than the last. And even though Patrick stopped for a second to snarl at them, Stan couldn’t stop the relief that tumbled off of him in waves. They were really gone. He was really here to stay. For good.

“You oh-okay?”

Bill slipped his arms around Stan’s waist, tugging him gently against his chest. Stan nodded. “I’m okay. I just - I didn’t - I didn’t get the gifts back.”

Bill’s gaze softened. “We can get them back. Richie and I will go by to get your stuff soon, alright?”

“Alright,” Stan murmured.

Richie, speaking of, was huddled up against the wall with Eddie. He had the omega’s face cupped gently in his hands, eyes raking over his face and a frown on his lips.

“I’m fine, Rich, really,” Eddie said, voice quiet. “It’s just a bruise.”

“I shouldn’t have let you guys be alone with any of them,” Richie muttered.

“You didn’t know-”

“But I should have known. I was just - I got distracted by Henry and-”

“Richie, it’s fine. Really.” Eddie put his hands on top of Richie’s, gently interlacing their fingers and pulling them away from his face. “They’re gone now and Stan is safe. That’s all that matters.”

Richie dropped his hands, looking almost as dejected as Henry did. “Well, maybe we should get it looked at. To make sure you don’t have a concussion or something.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ, you’re worse than my mom.”

“Yeah, worse at being a virgin maybe.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense.”

“It totally does. You just don’t understand because you have a concussion.”

Eddie chuckled quietly. Gathering the last of his courage, he reached out and interlocked his and Richie’s fingers. He squeezed gently. “Thank you.”

Richie nodded, looking breathless. “Yeah, of course.”

“I…” Eddie trailed off, the words disappearing from his tongue as he does. In the moment, it seemed so easy to tell Richie everything. To tell him exactly how he felt. But life wasn’t always that easy, so Eddie just squeezed Richie’s hand again and murmured, “I appreciate you.”

Richie flashed him a smile. The kind of smile that made Eddie think maybe, just maybe he knew what he meant. “I appreciate you too.” He let his eyes linger on Eddie for a moment longer before forcing himself to turn away. There were more pressing matters to attend to. “Stan, you alright?”

Stan nodded. “As alright as I can be.”

“We can get someone to walk to class with you,” Mike offered. “So you know they won’t catch you alone.”

“And the locks should be able to keep them out,” Bev said. “But we can get new ones if it’ll make you feel better.”

Stan shook his head, though the thought alone made him smile. It was nice to have people who would do anything to protect him. “You don’t need to do that. I don’t think they’ll be coming back.”

“If they do,” Richie kicked his leg in the air, nearly toppling over in the process, “we’ll kick their asses.”

“Jesus,” Eddie murmured, having to duck just to avoid getting hit by one of Richie’s many flailing legs.

Bill chuckled quietly. “Yeah, we won’t let them take you away again.”

“So you want me to stay?” Stan craned his neck to look up at Bill, eyes wide and lips spread into the biggest smile he could manage. “For real?”

“Yuh-Yeah. We want you to stay. I want you to stay.” Bill squirmed nervously. As if there might be a possibility Stan would say no. As if there might be a universe where Stan doesn’t want to spend every day of his life by his side.

Stan smiled softly. “I want to stay too.”

Bill’s arms tightened around Stan. Stan was a little worried he might crush his ribs, but he didn’t dare tell him to let go. Bill was holding him like he was afraid he would disappear, and Stan - who was still slightly worried this was all a dream that could vanish at a moment’s notice - couldn’t be more grateful.

Bill pressed a kiss to Stan’s temple. “Then welcome to the pack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your patience, we hope it was worth the wait! We appreciate your enthusiasm and love so much, and are so grateful for all the kudos and comments we have received, both here and on Tumblr. This collab has been so much fun, and who knows maybe we'll do another one in the future?!  
> Let us know what your favorite part was below! Also should we write a part two where Stan and Bill become bondmates?  
> If you're interested in reading our other current projects we have linked them below:  
> Bibabybi: [ The Denbrough Show](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21485254/chapters/51204955)  
> TheWeaverofWorlds: [ Bloody Noses & Crack'd Crowns](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24246772/chapters/58427671)  
> Thank you once again, and until next time!  
> -Bibabybi & TheWeaverofWorlds

**Author's Note:**

> Hello welcome to our new fic!! We will be updating throughout the month of August and possibly early-September. Working on this collab has been an absolute dream come true and we hope you enjoy it! Leave a comment down below, and let us know your thoughts.
> 
> -Bibabybi & TheWeaverofWorlds


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